


Dream (a Little Dream) of Me

by ellethom



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 40s AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Forced Marriage, Gen, Satchmo - Freeform, Tywin is always plotting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-07-19 17:47:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 40,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7371565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellethom/pseuds/ellethom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>40s setting AU.  Machinations, plots and romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen

**Author's Note:**

> This is a new fic and probably a long one. It is mostly Jaime and Brienne, but the other relationships are essential to future plot.
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you enjoy it. Please forgive any and all mistakes--unbrowsed, unseen, unbeta'd.
> 
> Title and Chapter Titles are all Louis Armstrong songs, hope no one minds.

He was accustomed to seeing her around the station.  Even as a toddler, Sansa Stark had often followed her father to work.  Benjen Stark angled toward the holding cell tentatively, aware of the soft sounds emanating from the hold and knowing full well who resided inside.

 

“Hey,” he said leaning on the bars of the closed door.

 

A soft sigh followed his words.  A sniffle.   Sansa sat on the bench with her knees drawn up to her chest.  Red hair fell in a curtain around her legs and her arms seemed to hold on for dear life.

 

Benjen pulled the door open and entered as if meeting a rabid hare.  “You alright?” He asked, his voice thick and hanging in his throat.  She was not all right.  She most definitely was not all right but he had to help her.  He owed it to his brother to look after her.  Them.  After Ned’s death last year, the Stark family had begun to fall apart.  Robb left college to join the Army, Jon had joined the police force like his father, but was missing during an undercover operation and currently presumed dead.  The younger children weren’t doing well either; Arya had run wild, Bran was wheelchair bound never to walk again.  And Rickon.

 

Benjen Stark didn’t like to think about his youngest nephew.

 

Instead, he cast a look at his niece similar to the ones he gave victims of violent crime.  While the Stark family did not need any more heartbreak this year, he decided he would ensure to cushion whatever blow this visit offered.

 

Benjen leaned on the iron bars and considered the red head. “What’s up, Sansa?”

 

She answered with another sniff from under the curtain of her red hair.

 

“You been coming around here since you were a baby.  Your ma used to bring you and Robb here to have lunch with Ned.”

 

She nodded again, red hair fanned along her drooped shoulders.

“What’s going on, Sansa?” Benjen pressed. “What’s got you so scared.”  She sniffed again, a sound that echoed around the corners of the stone cell. “You have the look of a girl that has lost her best friend.”

 

Her words came forth finally in watery breaths that reminded Benjen of the day her father died. “I’m just a stupid, stupid girl.” she sniffed.  

 

Benjen frowned with the realisation that there was something under her words that was darker than the loss of a favorite hair bow or a fight with her younger and much wilder sister. “Sansa,” he began mentally willing himself to turn off his cop voice. “What’s happened?”

  


VvVvVvV

 

“Absolutely not!” the blonde woman shouted across the weirwood table. “He is far too young for this.”

 

“He is the same age as the girl he so unnecessarily defiled.” Tyrion fired back.

 

“Shut up, little brother.  You’re only jealous that he did not have to pay for it.”

 

“At least i have had the common sense not to leave a litter in my wake.”

 

“Shooting blanks is nothing to be proud of.” she sneered.

 

“How is your dear husband anyway?” Tyrion fired back.

 

“Enough!” the third occupant of the room answered, not loudly, but with a voice used to command. “Both of you.”

 

The two siblings silenced, but maintained their open disgust of the other from their seats. “Your son has managed to bring a black mark against this family.” Tywin Lannister accused of his daughter. “You never could keep that boy in line. “

 

“Father,”  Cersei said, a whine catching at the edges of her voice. “This can’t happen.  That girl, how do we know Joff is responsible?”

 

Tywin had always been implacable; he had not gotten this far in life allowing emotion to rule him.  He cast a look at his only daughter and nodded. “Tyrion.”

 

The smallest of the Lannister siblings raised his large head from considering the dregs of his now empty tumbler, surprised at being called upon. “Father?” he said.

 

Tywin regarded his youngest son as he always had, a small return in payment from the loss of his wife. “What do you know of this?”

 

Tyrion shrugged. “They attend school together.  I am sure they had ample opportunities to--”

 

His sister shot him a look from across the table, for a moment Tywin wondered if she would leap across to strangle the younger man. “You lecherous, nasty imp!” she scowled.

 

“Cersei, restrain yourself.  If you cannot behave like an adult i will be forced to have you sent to bed without supper. “  

 

Cersei, deflated, grabbed for her glass; above the rim of her newly refilled galls, she continued to glare at her brother.

 

Tywin nodded; “So, this Stark girl, is it possible she has had other….suitors?”

 

Tyrion choked at the euphemism. “Doubtful.  That family and all of their unquestionable honor.  I doubt the girl, given her family of course, is likely to be one for multiple...suitors.”

 

Tywin noted his daughters countenance, she say as a woman ready to light the match and burn something.  Tywin cleared his throat before speaking, the sound was enough to rein in his daughter’s murderous glare. “That uncle of hers...the one that died in service.  I had heard stories of his….proclivities toward maidens.”

 

“Yes,” Cersei nodded. “Surely it’s a familial trait.”

 

“Only I scarcely expect that this Stark girl managed to procure our dear Joff’s maidenhead.  And if she did, it’s not exactly a prize anyone would crow over.”

 

This time, Cersei did lunge across the table; Tywin had been witness to their animosity over the years, but somewhere along the way it had churned into something visceral.  He was always surprised about how little he cared for it. “Cersei.”

 

She turned mid pounce, a lion stalled from her meal once more.  She sat and primly adjusted her immaculate appearance.  Petulantly, she turned from her father’s glare and grabbed for her glass again.

 

He steepled his fingers and sat in pregnant silence for more than a minute. “You make an interesting point, Tyrion.  But, knowing my grandson and his father, i cannot see a way to get around it.”

 

“Father!” Cersei said.

 

Tywin glared again at the woman across from him. “I don’t see, however that this union should be made.”

 

“Thank you!” Cersei agreed, pouring another glass of wine.  She stopped halfway at her father’s pointed stare.

 

“ Especially considering the arrangement with the Tyrell girl,” he finished.

 

Cersei triumphant smile turned to bitter ashes at the mention of her son’s intended. “I think that can be gotten around, eventually.”

 

“Good thing no one pays you to think, dear sister.” Tyrion said leaning back into his seat.

 

“But,” Tywin went on ignoring the rising tension between his two children, “It’s a matter of family integrity.”

 

Tyrion choked back a laugh and smartly cleared his smirk before speaking. “Is that even a thing in this family?”

 

“It is.” Tywin commanded. “And since this girl comes from a reputable house, we can hardly afford a scandal around an impropriety.” He spoke to Cersei. “At least your husband’s taste run toward lowborn and whores.”

 

“Perhaps Tyrion is really a Baratheon.” Cersei fired back.

 

“Oh, really sister.  Surely Joff is far more Lannister than Baratheon.”

 

“And as he is Lannister, we must find a suitable replacement for this girl.”

 

Both siblings turned full attention to the commanding man.  Tyrion raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure Jaime would hate having to marry anyone.”

 

“Don't even think it, little man.” Cersei spat.

 

“Afraid of losing your favorite toy sister?” he smirked.

 

“Jaime isn’t a piece on this board.”  Tywin said. “I have other ideas for him.”

 

“What other ideas. “Cersei asked. "What does that mean?"

 

“Jaime managed to get out of this anyway.”  Tyrion spoke. “I can’t say that i blame him.”

 

“Your brother can only play hero for so long. At some point he will do what is expected of him.”  Tywin turned to his youngest child. “As will you.”

 

It was Cersei who caught on first.  Her laughter filled the room like a cracked bell chiming along to a piano out of tune.

 

Tyrion’s frown deepened into confusion then disbelief. “You cannot be serious.” he toned.

 

“It’s time you stopped chasing whores and settled down.” Tywin said.

 

“Oh, Catelyn Stark is going to _love_ you.” Cersei said, still tittering into her refilled wine glass.

 

Tyrion deflated into his seat. “This is such a bad idea, Father.” he tried. “A girl like that would prefer someone like Jaime. “

 

`’Jaime, is never to know the truth of this.” Tywin announced. “Your brother is far too likely to do something stupid. We are trying to avoid a scandal here, not muck up the entire works.  Your borother would try to step in out of some misguided sense of loyalty to you."“

 

“It is his nature.”  Tyrion sighed with all the resignation of a man on death row. “I believe my sweet sister has the right of it.  Catelyn Stark will never agree to this.”

 

Tywin waved his hand exhausted at the prospect of explaining anything to his children. “It doesn’t matter.  I have spoken to the girl.  She is aware of her options.” He allowed a soft smile to flitter across his stony features.  “That family has been in desperate need of an influx of cash since the father died.”

 

“Oh, poor old dead Ned.”  Cersei said. “He hated the Lannisters.  I do hope they dressed him in tap shoes and a tutu  for his final resting place.  I would imagine he is doing pinwheels in his grave as we speak.”

 

“Of course i met with the girl.  I had to check the validity of her claim.  She has agreed for you to step in, Tyrion.  Her family was a once great name, still they do own half of the Northern businesses.” Tywin nodded toward his son. “We need an anchor in the North.  Our name isn't as trusted as the Stark name.  This marriage could bring our family a solid foothold in Northern business and politics.”

 

“That took a great hit last winter and then a greater hit when you took advantage of their need for liquid assets.”  tyrion accused.

 

“Business, Tyrion, is not for the weak nor the soft hearted.  The sooner you learn that, the better. .  You will marry this girl.  I have told her, and you must tell her mother.”

 

Both children carried matching looks of surprise. “She has agreed to this?” Tyrion finally spoke. “I have a hard time believing that.”

 

“It’s not for you to believe.” Tywin answered. “You will marry this girl and bring legitimacy to this….issue.  You will not tell your brother of what has happened other than your new role in this farce.”

 

“I’ve agreed to nothing.” Tyrion spoke.

 

Tywin scowled at his son’s sudden defiance.  He was accustomed to his children’s easy rebellions; yet knew well how to nip them before they rooted. “You will do this.  If you dream of maintaining your status and continued level of decadence that you so revel in.”

 

Cersei giggled softly, “you can still keep your whores, dear brother.”

 

“Yes, that has worked so well for your Robert, has it not?”

 

Tywin turned to his daughter then. “And you will keep that boy on a tighter leash or I will find someone who can.”  

 

“Might i suggest a good veterinarian?” Tyrion mused. “I had a friend with a cat who swears his pet’s nature much changed with a good neutering.”

 

“Save your japes for your bedding, I am sure you and your bride will need something to pass the time.”

 

“Dismissed.” Tywin said. “Both of you. And Tyrion.”

 

The younger man nodded toward his father as he slid out of his seat. “You will make your acquaintance with Catelyn Stark tomorrow night.  The girl is expecting you.”

"Of course." Tyrion said with a slow nod. "Wouldn't want to keep my future bride waiting."


	2. On the Sunny Side of the Street

She had always considered herself a rational woman; not prone to the strange reactions of others around her. When her husband fell over during a family gather, she had reacted with all the calm and dexterity of a distant relation rather than a spouse. All her cool reserved decisions in that three hour space of time had been for naught, of course. By the time the doctors had emerged from the hospital in White harbour, Ned had been long dead. 

When Bran had his accident, there had been a firmer, more tangible grief that gripped her soul and left her breathless in its intensity. Mother’s didn’t have favorites, it just was not done. But, even she had to admit in the hospital room next to his small, broken body, that her middle son had been closest to her nature. He was fierce, determined and indefatigable in his love of climbing.

Bran’s medical bills, Arya’s constant trips to the Dean’s office for fighting, and RIckon’s sudden unexplained illness. It was too much. Her family was falling apart and she stood with the thread, watching it unravel but unable to work her hands into the stitch that would pull them all back together. 

And, now this, of all things, this.

Now, seated in the great room of the house the Stark’s still barely owned, with the tiny man across from her looking for all the world like the cat who had just escaped yet another great apocalypse. 

She eyed the two; her daughter and this, abomination. Catelyn Stark was not a bigoted nor a biased woman. It was 1949, the dawn of a new decade. Yet, this half man had done the unthinkable. 

“I cannot imagine what you are going through.” he offered in the smarmy Western voice; the same accent of his father, the man who had ruined her husband’s company. 

“Oh?” she answered through teeth that would certainly be dust by morning. “You have a daughter that has been defiled?”

“Mother!” Her oldest daughter squeaked. “Please, he is trying to do the right thing.”

“Oh, really?” she asked.

He had the decency to look nervous; a solitary lion in the wolf pit. “And you plan to legitimize this error?” she asked. 

He spread his small hands out in front of him. “I am here, am I not? Alone, facing my fate.”

“Your fate? Is that all you consider it?” Catelyn asked. “You think this is something that you can wave away with gold?”

“No,” Tyrion answered with a sigh. “Oh course not, Mrs. Stark. I am here to make this right.”

Catelyn leaned back into her chair. “So what is to be done?” she asked. “Are you going to marry my daughter then?”

“Of course.” he smiled. “Why else would I be here.”

“And your family? That father of yours?” she asked. “I can’t imagine this is such the blessing that Tywin Lannister would be party to, even for his lesser son.”

“Mother!” Sansa stood then. “I cannot believe you are being so rude.” 

“Your father would be disgusted.” Catelyn said with less malice than she intended. Since his death, everything had changed faster than autumn twisting into a frigid winter. 

“Don’t!” the girl begged. “Not this, please!”

Catelyn was surprised at the sudden emergence of the small hand on her daughter’s arm. Her first reaction was to demand the Imp remove his paws from her. Then, with a sadness and resignation, the mother realized he must have done more than that. 

Far more than that given the state of her daughter’s situation. She could not help but wish for Ned. None of this would have happened if his large heart had only continued to beat. She wanted to rent her dress and call for her sons to come and clear the room of the beast next to her daughter. 

But then what?

Catelyn Stark drew the hand knitted wool around her shoulders as if a draft had flitted through the room. She pursed her lips and considered the small man for a moment before speaking. “Mr. Lannister--”

He raised his wineglass to her and smiled “Please, we are to be family soon. I insist you call me Tyrion.”

“Mr Lannister,” she repeated frowning at his continued smile. “I don’t understand how this happened.” She glared at her daughter for a moment before going on. “I assume the two of you are aware of what needs to happen.” she sniffed.

Tyrion nodded, “Of course my lady.” he nodded. “I will do everything what needs to be done to ensure that all matters of honor are maintained.”

“FIne.” she said finally, surprised at her long silence. “This must be done.”

Catelyn showed the dwarf to the door after they agreed that two weeks would be enough time to spare for a quick wedding given the timeframe. 

Sansa remained on the sofa, back straight and her eyes seemed to be considering the possibility of faeries. Catelyn slid next to her daughter and placed her arms around the young woman. “Sansa, we don’t have to do this.”

Catelyn jerked at the sharp look in her daughter’s eyes when they met hers. Sansa gave an odd smile and tilted her head. “And what would you have me do, Mother?” she asked with the voice of a woman far past even Catelyn’s own years.

“I think we could research. A vacation perhaps.” 

Sansa moved away from her mother, backing up against the stuffed armrest. “Really, a vacation?” 

Catelyn had never seen the look in her daughter’s eyes; it was feral determination. How had i missed this before? How had i seen that look in all of my children’s eyes and missed this piece of it in Sansa’s? “Sansa, it’s possible that we could--”

“No, mother.” Sansa said. “This is my decision. I made this mistake and the only person who can resolve it is me.”

The fire in the hearth popped; loud enough to startle Catelyn. “Sansa. Don’t throw your life away.”

Her daughter’s laugh cut the stillness in the room. “It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it mother?” Sansa gathered her hands in front of herself `’you want me to be ashamed. To be sorry for my actions.”

“I want you safe from the Lannisters.”

Sansa raised her head in defiance, she reminded Catelyn so much of Ned then. Strength, courage and sworn to honor in the face of utter demise. “I am to be one of them in two weeks, Mother. It’s far too late to warn me against them.” The redhead rose from the couch and turned away from her mother. “I must begin plans. Two weeks? Not enough time.”

VvVvVvV

Brienne angled into the large living room; always careful of the small treasures that would fall prey to her awkward and gangly movements. Catelyn watched the poor girl slump into her steps as she made her way to the couch.

When Ned had brought her home, Catelyn had been expecting a small, frail child; she had not expected a girl already taller than her oldest son, and as broad in shoulder as her husband. She remained in a constant war to not let the girl see the pity in her eyes. Thick wide lips, broken nose and a stature that put most men to shame. Catelyn’s ward was as ugly as a woman could be, but had a heart more golden then all of Casterly mines. 

“Miss Catelyn, you sent for me?” 

Catelyn nodded. “Sit, child. “ She waved to the couch across from her. “I need your help, Brienne.”

“Is it Petyr again?” Brienne asked as her body tensed as if ready to fight. “Is he come round again?”

“Petyr Baelish is a friend, Brienne.” Catelyn always found herself talking in short, explanatory sentences to the girl. She never assumed Brienne was stupid, nor slow. But, she needed things spelled out explicitly. “And, no Petyr is not the issue.”

Brienne relaxed only a bit, her large hands fretted the pillow on her lap. “Of course, Miss Catelyn, I didn’t mean to offend.”

“Of course not, dear.” Catelyn sighed. “I will need your help in the coming weeks; well possibly months. Possibly more than I have already had to lean on you, Brienne.”

“Anything, Miss Catelyn. “ the younger woman nodded.

Catelyn smiled at the girl then. Loyalty came to Brienne like breathing. “You have been a comfort and help to me with all of the troubles our family has had to face in the last few years.”

“Its nothing short of what you have done for me, what your family has done for me.”

“Our Sansa is getting married.”

“Oh,” the sound came through her thick lips in a gust of surprised air. “I didn’t realize she…”

Catelyn shook her head and tried to offer some solace to both herself and the girl across from her. “Brienne, what do you know of the Lannisters?”

“The Lannisters?” Brienne frowned. “I don’t understand. Is Sansa marrying one of them?”

Catelyn leaned forward across the coffee table. “Sansa is to marry a man she would never have looked at twice. He is older than her and…” She stopped herself before the word ugly crossed her lips. “He is not the type of man that I envisioned for her. Nor, I suspect is he the type of man she envisioned for herself.”

“Miss Catelyn?”

“Something is rotten here, Brienne. I can smell it.” She felt it coming on, that hot, pulsing feeling of drowning in fire. Ned had always been able to soothe her, but Ned was long gone now, and she found herself leaning on a girl half her age. Catelyn stood and began to pace the large room.

“Are you alright?” Brienne stood as if to follow her, but Catelyn waved her back to the couch. “I need to find out what is really going on here, Brienne. I can’t do it myself., not with everything…” she ran her hands across her face. “Not with everything else i have to deal with.”

She sighed again,”This house used to be filled with so much...noise. Do you recall?”

Brienne nodded but did not speak.

“There used to be small disasters, those easily rectified with sweets or a broom and mop.” Catelyn shook as she moved in a steady pace around the room. “Now, Bran cannot walk, Arya locks herself in her room and doesn;t think i know that she sneaks out at night to do gods only knows what. Rickon struggles to breathe and is in constant pain. And my Robb has left school to fight someone else’s wars.”

“Miss Catelyn, whatever it is, I swear by the old gods and the new i will help!” 

Catelyn stopped her movement and considered the unfortunate child in front of her. “I don’t know, Brienne. But, just be ready if an opportunity presents itself. I will need you, child. I need to keep my daughter safe.”

VvVvVVvV

Sansa was seated at her desk when Brienne found her in her room. “Mother sent you to talk me out of this?” she asked without turning around.

Brienne set heavily upon the pink canopied bed and drew her legs into a neat elongated fold. “No.” she said. 

Sansa nodded from her seat but did not turn toward her foster sister. “I suppose with all of your ideals of honor you seek to judge me as well.”

Brienne shook her head, then realized the girl could not see the movement from her perch. “No,” Brienne said again.

Sansa did turn then. “You remind me of Father,, sometimes. “ Sansa said. “You have that same quiet sense of right and wrong. All that righteousness bubbling under the surface. It did nothing for him; we still lost almost everything and are perched on the edge of complete ruination. Try to remember that?” She considered Brienne, seated stoically and rigid on her bed. I can feel you passing judgement from here. “

“It’s not my place to pass any sentence upon anyone. That is for the gods and them alone.”

Sansa growled low. “Now you really do sound like him.”

“I just want to know,” Brienne tried, little above a mumble. 

“Know what?” Sansa pressed.

Brienne rose from the bed. “I am sorry, Miss Sansa, I did not mean to make you upset. Especially with everything….”

“She told you that too?” Sansa raised her head as if asking for deliverance. “Brienne, you cannot tell anyone. This entire thing is hinged upon this remaining quiet. I have no doubt why Mother told you, but please?”

“Of course, Miss Sansa.” Brienne nodded.

“And for gods’ sake! We are the same age, you have lived here for over 6 years! Stop calling me Miss Sansa!”

“Of course.” Brienne nodded again, confused as how to address the girl in front of her. “I’ll just…”

Sansa nodded and turned back to her antique desk. Brienne rose and slipped out of the room as quietly as she had entered.


	3. Someday You'll Be Sorry

He was beating his resting foot against the pew in front of them. Tyrion Lannister had long accepted the fact that his brother was a continual ball of inexhaustible energy that, when forced to be still, would manifest said energy into the most wretchedly annoying habits. 

“THis is madness.” The taller of the two brothers announced for the twelfth time since the announcement had been made. “Why would you voluntarily wish to do something this, foolish.” 

Tyrion sighed and tried to recall that his older brother, while his idol, was probably not the best judge of relationships. 

At all.

It didn’t help that he was compelled into lying to his brother. It wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last he imagined. Everyone lied to Jaime, it was just easier that way. Cersei, however was the expert on it. Not that Jaime would know that, nor would he believe anything to the contrary.

“Dearest brother, why is it so hard for you to believe that I have found the love of my life?” Tyrion ignored Jaime’s snort before going on. “True love, and all of that.”

“And how does one meet and fall in love with a 17 year old girl, anyway?” Jaime asked in that tone Tyrion had hated. It was the same tone he used with underlings. 

“Careful, brother.” Tyrion warned. “Remember I am acquainted with all of your own skeletons.”

The derisive scuff that emitted from the taller man’s mouth would have been offensive had he not loved him more than just about anyone else in the world. “And, what about Tysha? How does she feel about all of this?”

He turned his large head then, something feral in his eyes must have told the older man all he needed to know. Jaime dropped both his glare and further discussion regarding the mousy girl that had once been a fixture at Tyrion’s side. 

The two continued to stare out from their position in the back row of the Sept. A silence between them crept in and allowed for the sounds from the front of the sept to envelope them. 

The bride and her maids had taken to arranging flowers and decorations around the place. The wedding was beginning to take on a folksy theme that Tyrion was certain would be hated by his most of his family, especially his father. 

Sansa stood in the center of the altars directing friends and family on proper placements and accepting suggestions like a Queen at court. 

Catelyn Stark entered through the side of the sept. “She looks pissed.” Jaime smirked. Before he could say anything else, a tall form haunted the shadow of the older woman. At least a foot and a half taller than the Stark matriarch, the shadow clumped along with little grace; less nuanced than an aurach. Who invited a Clegane?” Jaime asked with a face drawn into a grimace. 

Tyrion smiled for the first time in what felt like weeks. “That is no Clegane. In fact, that is no man either.”

“The fuck you say.” Jaime said loudly enough for it to echo around the sept. Twenty pairs of eyes turned toward the pair who had hidden themselves in the back. Tyrion offered a small wave and shook his head. “Ladies, forgive my brother.” He said. “I think he is allergic to septs.” 

“Tyrion had to let me in,” Jaime offered. “Last time I so much as touched the doorknob, I lost a hand.” He raised his wooden prosthetic into the air for effect. 

THe women turned again to their work, Catelyn Stark made her way toward the pair with a furious gait and a grim visage. “Now you’ve done it.” Tyrion accused, even at his stature, he seemed to deflate even more into the pew.

She stopped in front of the men, her shadow standing just behind her. “Mr. Lannister.” she said.

Jaime and Tyrion offered identical smiles to the women in front of them. Tyrion spoke, if for nothing less than to keep his brother from further grave digging. “Mrs. Stark, you look astounding, as usual.”

She did not answer him, glaring instead at the two men as if she would prefer their deaths. “It's a nice day for a white wedding.” Jaime offered.

The large woman moved in front of the older one as if to protect her. Catelyn placed a hand on the girl’s arm to stop her. “What in the hell is that?” Jaime said. 

Tyrion elbowed his brother in the ribs, “Mrs. Stark, might I offer any further assistance in preparing for tonight’s festivities?”

“You could leave.” she commanded.

The men shared a look between them. “I’ll go.” Jaime rose and straightened his wool coat. “I wouldn’t want to anger a woman who has trained a bear.”

“Jaime,” Tyrion said, but he rose along with his brother. “Tell, you what, we’ll go and get lunch for everyone. How does that sound?”

Catelyn nodded in lieu of words and turned on her heel. The tall girl lingered long enough to give a threatening glare to the two before following Mrs. Stark.

VvVvVvV

“I wasn’t trying to be rude. “ Jaime whined as the two sat in the back of the large car. “I mean really, did you see her arms?”

“She’s the foster daughter of the Starks, they like her. Are you really trying to get me killed before I even walk down the aisle?”

“Might be far superior to marrying into that family.” 

“It’s not that simple. You and I both know this is happening whether I want it to or not.”

“How did you two meet anyway?” Jaime asked. “I mean, I never pegged you for a chicken hawk.”

“She’s 17 years old.” Tyrion said through gritted teeth. It was not the first time he wished for his brother’s stature and strength, if for nothing else than to have a real fight. “And are you really going to sit there casting aspersions over my romantic relationships?”

Jaime turned his face to the window; his foot tapping rhythmically. “Why would the Starks train a she bear anyway? Is that some Northman thing?”

“Seriously?” Tyrion glared at his brother. 

Jaiem shrugged but did not turn around. “How does a woman get that big anyway?”

“She’s not a woman.” Tyrion said. 

Jaime did turn then; his raised eyebrow threatened the ‘I told you so’ that was forming on his lips before Tyrion interrupted him. “She’s just a girl, Jaime. She’s only 17 as well.” Tyrion said. “And why do you care? She’s an unfortunate creature in more ways than you can imagine. I rather understand that.”

“There is nothing unfortunate about you, little brother. Except your choice in families to marry into.”

“Gods damn it, Jaime. Let it go.” 

The restaurant’s parking lot was a welcome view; he had grown tired of his brother’s endless two week mantra regarding his marriage. Jaime had been in typical form; relentless and mocking in his derision. 

By the time they returned to the sept with bags of greasy food, the decorations had been hung; the girls descended upon them at the smell of the food. 

Tyrion cleared a space on one of the front pews and made a small setting for Sansa. The tall redhead eyed the offering suspiciously before realising their relationship status. She sat prettily and thanked him with a resurrected, if tentative smile. 

Jaime had found a spot on the floor across the aisle from the couple. He sat cross legged and fussed with the wrappings on his food. Tyrion felt a spike of pity for his brother and knew Jaime would hate him for it. He quickly tried to school his features and turned to his future wife. 

“Everything ready then? He asked, cursing a need for small talk with a person he was set to marry in less than 24 hours. 

Sansa nodded around a mouthful of cheeseburger but said nothing else. 

“It’s good to see your appetite returned.” he tried again. 

“Mother says it’s only temporary. Now I am just hungry.” She offered him another ephemeral smile. “I should suppose that is a good sign?”

“The best.” Tyrion said. “And you feel otherwise fine?”

SHe had turned to watch Jaime almost wistfully. Tyrion chuckled to himself about lost causes and poor deluded teenagers when he noticed his brother as well. Jaime had been staring while he ate. He was sat by himself, oblivious to the teen girls giggling about him. Jaime was one of the gods’ own creations; yet he never capitalised upon them. His brother only had had one true love, and as far as Tyrion knew, only one lover. 

So, the surprise of his brother watching the tall ugly girl as if transfixed on her was perplexing for him. “He isn’t going to mean to her again, is he?” Sansa asked nervously. “She hasn’t had it easy.”

Tyrion, grateful for a chance to speak with her on anything other than the weather tilted his head in curiosity. “What do you mean?” 

Sansa sighed and nervously poked at the remains of her burger. Still looking at Jaime, she spoke; “I mean, she lost her entire family over the course of her life. We took her in when her father died. He was quite well off, but there were no other family to take the poor thing.”

“How did your family know her?” 

Sansa smiled. “My father knew her father. They were posted together. Her father was Father’s commanding officer for a long time. My father had said he watched Brienne grow up. When Commander Tarth died, he wasted no time in flying to Tarth to the funeral. He found out she was to go into the system.”

“He saved her from quite the fate.” Tyrion nodded. 

“He brought her home when she was 12. Already taller than Robb and Jon and practically scared of her own shadow. She barely spoke over a mumble for the first six months. “

“She seems to have really taken to your mother.” Tyrion noted, Brienne had not left Catelyn’s side the entire meal; neither of them seemed to notice Jaime’s persistently intermittent glares. 

“My mother was the first, if not only one to really break through to her. Robb says Brienne is like a baby chick that imprinted on her.”

Tyrion smiled. Rob was majoring in psychology at university and was fascinated with the Gestalt psychologists. “Well, your mother is a saint to take that on.”

Sansa nodded again, “It’s a shame that people are so cruel to her. She cannot help the way she looks, it is unfortunate but--” Sansa halted as if a freight train had just parted the aisle of the sept. Her eyes bugged, then her head dipped. “I am sorry.” she insisted.

Accustomed to it, he only nodded. “Sansa, we don’t have to do this if you don’t--”

“You sound like Mother.” she sighed. “Or is it that everyone thinks they know what’s best for me?”

“Perhaps it is those that only want the best for you, Sansa.”

“I made these choices, Tyrion. I chose to do this and now I must pay for the dance.”

He smiled, not just at her strength but at the realization that it was the first time she had called him by name. 

“I knew what...I knew that was never going to end well. I just.” She shook her hair and peered upward as if calling on the seven for courage to speak. “Someone once told me that life is not like a song. I guess,” she sighed then. “Given everything….I guess this is the best I could hope for.”

“Still,” Tyrion felt the old ghost of defense and shame climbing up his shortened spine. “Still, it’s not me you have to be fobbed off onto.”

Her hand found his arm across the distance of the ruins of their meal. She shook her head. “No.” she insisted with a strength that reminded Tyrion of her mother. “We’re doing this tomorrow.”


	4. Oh!  Didn't He Ramble!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of the comments and kudos. You guys are amazing. 
> 
> Now, with more Jaime!

It was raining as the happy couple exited the sept into the waiting limo. Jaime held the umbrella as best he could over them as they cut a sombre procession toward the car. 

It’s a gods damned funeral. He mused as he watched his brother help the girl into the car. The Plank stood in the doorway of the sept. Mrs. Stark had left in another car with the other immediate family. Brienne had offered to stay and tie up loose ends and meet them at the hall for the reception. Jaime turned to look at the girl and wondered for the hundredth time where she had gotten such an unfortunate face. 

Jaime stood watching her as she watched the procession cantor off for the continuation of the celebration. The small band of attendants had already run for the safety of their own cars in a rush toward the promise of an open bar and bad music. “You’re much uglier in the light of day.” he called apropo of nothing.

The giantess scowled and pulled herself back into the sept, shutting the door behind her. Jaime found himself climbing the stairs and following her in.

She was halfway up the flower doused aisle before she turned to confront him. “Shouldn’t you be on your way to the reception?”

“Shouldn’t you?” he fired back, still following her. 

She began dismantling the finery; ribbons and day old flower arrangements began to fall to her large hands. “You’re a right tall wench, aren’t you?” he said with something akin to reverence.You don’t really need a ladder at all, do you?” he asked. 

“Do you serve a purpose?” she asked with a tired sigh. 

He grinned but took up the other side of the aisle and began to help remove the decorations. “I have been curious, do you play basketball? Football? What would a woman of your--size do with all that extra flesh and bone?”

She continued to ignore him, something he was not accustomed to. “I have to wonder, do you often get nose bleeds? Can you attend theatres without having to sit in the back row?”

The girl’s dismemberment of decorations took on a decidedly savage pace, and Jaime smiled. “I bet you haven’t ever even been to a theatre. Well, not as a date or anything. Tell me, do you work in the zoo? Feeding giraffes? Or, are all animals smaller than you absolutely terrified in your wake?”

“Is that how you lost your hand? Feeding bears?” she fired back 

He stared at the wooden replica for a moment. “Rescuing maidens.” he grinned. “I could rescue you, I am certain you are a maiden.”

“I need no rescuing, and i would appreciate if you would either leave or shut up.” she said, still jamming every scrap she pulled down into a large black trash bag. “And, aren’t you too old to be taunting someone nearly half your age? Go pick on someone your own age.”

“Why, when i have found someone to pick on my own size.” he stopped to consider her fully. “Or, bigger. Definitely bigger.” he nodded.

She scuffed again, dragged the bag further away from his taunts. “You can leave at any time.”

He continued to pull down ribbons and streamers, still eyeing her occasionally. “Actually, i can’t” he said. “I was nominated to bring you to the reception.”

“I’m not going.” she shot over her shoulder. 

“Why not? It’s a party. Everyone loves a party. “ Jaime followed her through the sept into the small hall that lead off into the kitchens.

“Not everyone.” she said. “I don’t.”

He stood beside her as she washed dishes and organized the kitchen. “I was nominated as the Wench transporter. How will it look if i show up wenchless? I’ll lose my job.”

She fell into silence again, having finished the kitchen she moved on to the rest of the ante rooms. 

He found himself following her again before he realized what he was doing. “I can’t leave here without you. My brother will kill me.”

“I doubt that. “ Brienne said. 

“Look, if you stay here, then i have to stay too. I can’t walk in there and not have you. I can outrun my brother, true enough, but the Starks--well that is a different story altogether. Even one handed i am fairly certain i can protect myself against the males. The women on the other hand, I’m pretty sure that little one could eviscerate me at fifty paces.. And my new good sister has quite a bit of the wolf to her, i don’t think my brother will survive the bedding.””

“Will it shut you up?” she asked finally out of exasperation.

“And lest forget the eldest she wolf. I would never admit this outside of the Holy Sept but you know, I am more than a little afraid of her. I have heard stories--”

“Fine!” she shouted. “If you swear i will not have to deal with you at the reception, then I would take my chances with the savage horde than have to listen to anything else that spews from your snobbish entitled mouth. “

“I’m hurt.” but no pain reached his eyes nor smile. “And i have learned to avoid vows of all kinds. “ He offered her an elbow. “Shall we?”

She ignored his offer and moved toward the large sept doors. Her coat and purse still over her arm.

“You may want to take my arm, Wench. “ He said looking out into the still gray skies. “I’m the one with the umbrella.”

“Think I care about a little rain?” she fired. “And my name is--”

“Brienne, yes i know.” Jaime offered his arm again, and this time, as he opened the large black umbrella on the steps of the ancient sept, she slipped her arm into his. 

VvVvVvV

If anyone had told her of the shadow she acquired at the somber, if gouache reception, she would have laughed in their face. He walked her into the hall after a ride that left her clutching the sides of the seat in his too big automobile. The only thing faster was Jaime’s whiplash speaking. 

He asked questions, she avoided or plain didn’t answer. Sitting with him in that car felt both wrong, dangerous and so very right that his lightening fast speaking and lead foot weren’t the only reasons she emerged from the front seat completely breathless.

The rain had stopped by the time they had arrived at the hall, but the insufferable man raised his umbrella and took her elbow anyone. “Wouldn’t want you to arrive unescorted,” he smirked. “Or, make a getaway. You as slippery as an eel in a bucket full of snot.”

“Must you be so, disgusting, all the time?” It was as if the man was seeking to shock with every syllable that slid from his perfect lips.

Perfect?

He had walked them to the front foyer of the hall and held her coat as she removed it. She tried not notice that he had checked their things together on one ticket. 

While he batted his lashes at the obviously smitten and overtly flirty woman at the check desk, Brienne saw her opportunity and wandered off into the hall. She took advantage of her height to find where Catlyn and the other Starks had been sat. 

Brienne, used to trying to avoid people, slid around the side of the large room until she found a seat at the table. “Brienne,” Arya smiled at her and pushed the empty seat out. “Sit with me or i will do something rash.”

“You’ll do that anyway Miss Arya.” But she smiled as she scooted into her spot. “Miss Catelyn.”  
She nodded at the older woman, Bran and Rickon did not make the ceremony nor the reception. Catelyn sat next to Benjen Stark and on the other side of her was Petyr Baelish.

She hated that man for no good reason other than a gut feeling that run through her like a knife through a particularly cold stick of butter.

“....the indignity of it all!” Arya said at her side and Brienne realized that Arya had been saying something that she had missed. “WHat?” she asked.

Arya comically grabbed fistfulls of the grey dress she wore. “This is itchy!” she insisted. 

“Now, Arya.” Petyr spoke up from his perch. “Brienne is in a dress as well. We all must be properly attired for the given situation.”

Arya’s grey eyes flashed, and Brienne knew the younger girl would say something. SHe tried to reach for her hand but the words were slipping from the girl already. “I’m sorry, is your name Ned?”

“Arya!” Catelyn and Brienne shouted at the same time.

“It’s bad enough i have to sit here and act friendly in the lion’s den while my sister becomes one of them.”

Brienne squeezed her hand “Maybe we should take a walk, Arya.”

“Oh, look. Here comes one now. “ Arya said, slipping her hand from Brienne’s and pointing.

He came to the side of her chair, his hand worked in a frenzy inside of his pocket. “There you are, Wench.”

“Mr. Lannister,” Catelyn worked the words around her mouth as if she would spit on him from across the table. “If you cannot be polite--”

Jaime held up his good hand. “Now, Mrs. Stark. We are family now. What’s a little teasing among us?” He smiled at Brienne before going on. “I was just making sure our tall girtl here made it to the right table. I see she has.”

“And now you can find your own seat, then.” Petyr interjected.

Jaime bowed low and on his way up he leaned into her space. “As a bucket of snot.” he said before rising. His breath was warm on the shell of her ear and somehow she felt it right to the soles of her feet.

Brienne wriggled in her seat, unsure of the rumble that crossed her lower belly and chalked it up to hunger. She turned in time to see Jaime’s retreating form as he slid into a seat next to his father. 

“Is that man troubling you, Brienne?” Catelyn asked with the motherly concern she had come to cherish from the woman.

Brienne shook her head. “No,he...uh...he gave me a ride here.” she found herself rearranging the setting in front of her. 

Catelyn eyed the girl with something foreign in her eyes. Brienne was about to ask her about it when the first course arrived. 

After the meal, many people took to the floor. A band was playing Sentimental Journey as people too drunk for anything more than swaying along to the melody whirled around the floor. The bride and groom stayed seated, and Brienne could not blame them. Dancing, with their obvious height difference, would be awkward to say the least. 

Jaime had managed to follow her when she rose to visit the ladies room. He was behind her as soon as she rose. “Wench,” he said with that sharpened smile and dazzling eyes.

Dazzling?

She continued to move through the packed hall hoping Catelyn did not see her with him. “What do you need?”

“World peace, a new hand. Hell i would even stand for a new Cary Grant movie with that fiery red head.” he grabbed for her arm and tucked it under his right one. “But a dance with suffice.”

She pulled her arm free and turned on him then. “I. Do. Not. Dance.”

Jaime backed off as if threatened, but the smile never left his face. “Alright, alright. No need for violence. Unless that is something…” he ducked his head at her glare. “All right, Wench. But let it be known i did try.” He turned on his heel and moved back to the front of the room.

When she returned to her seat, Catelyn and Petyr were the only ones at the table. Benjen had convinced Arya to dance with her uncle . The two left at the table seemed unnaturally close in proximity with both sets of eyes rooted upon the tall girl. Catelyn had molded her features into that odd glare again and aimed it at her. “Brienne. What is the nature of you and that man.”

“No-Nothing, Miss Catelyn. I swear!” Brienne felt defensive in the face of Catelyn’s accusation. 

Catelyn nodded, but it was Petyr who spoke up. “A man like that,” he said low as if anyone else was there to hear. “Should not be allowed in polite society. Especially around,” he turned his dirty glare upon Brienne. “Impressionable girls.”

Brienne snorted into her napkin and turned it into a gentle cough. While she knew nothing of Jaime Lannister, she did know how Petyr Baelish made his money, and it always made her skin crawl to think about it.

“Yes, well.” Catelyn said with a forced smile. “I am sure that our Brienne is far too smart to be lulled into something with a man like that.”

She wanted to ask then what he had done, but instead she took another drink of her cherry soda and shrugged. 

But, even with the music, the clatter of plates and utensils; even with the swirling dancers on the floor and the strings of Dooley Wilson’s As Time Goes By she could feel his eyes on her. She knew if she turned around, he would be there, looking at her with those emerald, japing, beautiful eyes.

Beautiful?


	5. Pennies From Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot congeals thicker than yesterday's oatmeal.
> 
> Thanks for all the love, guys.

In the three weeks since Sansa Stark married, there had been so many changes at Winterfell. Changes that, in the light of day seemed to place a marked difference in the future of the Starks; but left their mother more wretched, more desperate.

Arya had been offered a full scholarship to a boarding school in the Riverlands, an opportunity that seemed too good to be believed yet there it was. 

Catelyn held the letter in her shaking hands as she read the announcement out loud to Brienne. As usual when unsure of how to react, Brienne chose silence and allowed her hands to twitch. 

“This is supposed to be a good thing,” Catelyn said, but there was no benignity in her voice. “My children are all being taken from me.”

In a way Catelyn was right; Bran had been moved to a special school further north where he could learn to assimilate into paraplegic movement. Rickon had gone to a special center that sought to treat his illness, and now Arya.

“This smells like Lannister infringement.” Catelyn went on. “I am certain of it.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to both ask how the Lannisters were involved in all of this and how any of it was a negative. Brienne kept quiet instead. Her foster mother was fraying around the edges and Brienne wasn’t sure if it was only temporary.

VvVvV

Brienne was never one for eavesdropping; it was the sort of thing that snoops and fat heads took part in. But, since Arya left and Robb refused to come home on leave, Brienne found herself alone in that big house with Catelyn and the maid. 

Silence had descended upon Winterfell so thickly that hearing voices of any kind was welcome. Brienne followed the sound until she realized who Catelyn was speaking to.

“...Robb has to marry into that family, Cat. It’s the only way.”

Catelyn’s melodic, if insistent voice folded into the conversation. “He won’t do it, Petyr. I know my son.”

Brienne could feel the desperation. She’d had no idea there was an issue with Robb marrying. He had not been in Winterfell in over a year, ever since he left his last year of college to join the army. “You need an influx of cash, Cat. Winterfell and its companies are tanking.” Petyr’s voice always made her want to flip her cap. He had no business being so...intimate, in their lives. 

“What about that girl, the one that’s lived here rent free for years.”

“You mean Brienne.” Catelyn fired back, her answer left Brienne with a swelled chest and a deeper abiding love for Catelyn. “And she has her own money from her father’s estate.

“Does she now?” Petyr asked with more intent that Brienne cared to hear. “Now that does change things a bit.” he said. “What if she…”

The sound of the phone made her jump, spilling the knick knacks on the table next to her. Nan bustled in from the kitchen, the older woman smiled “Miss Brienn, phone for you.”

Brienne scowled. Aside from the occasional school friend, no one ever called her. `brienne followed Nan into the kitchen and sat at the phone nook. “Hello?”

“Well, Hi-Dee-Ho, Wench.” Brienne knew that voice, it had haunted her since the wedding three weeks before. He had never called her and why was he calling her now?

“What do you want?” she frowned into the receiver.

“I can actually hear you scowling. It’s amazing!”

Brienne looked around the large kitchen, for the first time grateful for Petyr Baelish’s distracting presence. At this point he had become practically ubiquitous. “I’m not...scowling.” she stuttered as quietly as she could.

“There’s the stubborn Wench I met!” 

“My name is--”

Jaime’s voice crackled and popped across the distance. “Yes, yes I know what your name is.”

“Why are you calling?” she asked again.

“To the point as always,” Jaime said. “You are going to be in King’s Landing next week.”

“I am?” she asked. 

“Catelyn didn’t tell you?” the surprise in his voice sent a shiver through her. Then, recalling the conversation she had heard in the living room. Brienne began to wonder if there were other things that Miss Catelyn wasn’t telling her. 

“I am sure she will inform me in her time.” Brienne bit out; she never liked being the dope, even with the best of intentions--which she was certain Miss Catelyn had. 

“Right.” he said. “Well, as my job as official Wench transporter, I am to take you around to universities in the city.”

“Universities?” Brienne asked, feeling more a dope with each word that poured out of his mouth.

Don’t think about his mouth!

Jaime’s laughter carried across the long distance call. “You really are thick, aren’t you Wench?”

“I don’t understand. I haven’t been considering college.”

“Well why not? A girl’s gotta have something to do until she’s married off. Or drafted by the Cardinals. Or picks up a shovel and walks on the line.”

Unless she’s Sansa Stark, then she goes from graduation to gestation.

“That’s not--” Brienne shrugged as if he could see. She had always thought she would stay at Winterfell; continue to help Catelyn with her woes. College and marriage never crossed her mind, not even for a second. 

“Listen, I’ll see you next week. Don’t take any wooden nickels.” With that, the line went dead. 

She rose from the phone nook and replaced the receiver. Brienne felt wobbly as she moved through the room and into the hallway. It was quiet now, and Brienne assumed that Baelish had finally left.

“Brienne?” she twisted at the sound of her name.

Catelyn waved her into the living room and patted the seat next to her. “Come sit with me, child.”

VvVvVvV

“What are you doing?” his brother, half his height, stood as tall as an oal with his arms folded and his glare set into an accusatory grimace.

`’i’m standing?”

The smaller man shook his head. “I distinctly heard you utter the word ‘wench’ half a dozen times, I can only assume that means you were speaking to Catelyn Stark’s ward. So, I ask again. What. Are. You. Doing?”

With his good hand, Jaime removed a folded piece of paper from his pants pocket and waved it in front of his brother’s nose. “Marriage has made you suspicious, little brother.” he said. 

“What is that?” Tyrion asked, he reached for the paper as Jaime snatched it back quickly. He hated when his brother played keep away. There were entire months when Tyrion wondered who, in fact was the older sibling.

“It’s a letter.”Jaime sniffed haughtily.

“I can see that, Jaime.” Tyrion mentally counted back from ten, remembering that Jaime was his idol.

“Mrs Stark asks,” Jaime began, he opened the letter and began to read. “‘...that if you are available to assist in the furthering of the education of her dearest ward.’”

“You lie!” Tyrion said. There was little and less chance that Catelyn Stark would consider asking any Lannister for assistance, let alone entrusting something like this. “She would not.”

Jaime seemed agitated, “She did. Further, she says “If it would please you to offer any and all assistance in registering Brienne into the college of her choosing there, I would consider it a personal favor amongst family.’” Jaime offered his brother a triumphant glare. 

Tyrion scrunched his face into an odd cadence “She did not!”

“She did.”

In the monet of Jaime’s conceit, Tyrion managed to snatch the letter from his brother’s hand with a daring leap. He scanned the missive and frowned with every word. “This is madness.”

“I’ve been saying that for weeks!” Jaime said throwing his arms into the air.

Catelyn and Brienne were due for a visit in a week or so. Sansa had missed her mother and Tyrion welcomed the distraction from his ersatz marriage. “Why would she ask you?”

Jaime shrugged, plucked the letter from Tyrion’s hands and shoved it back into his pocket. “Who knows?” he smiled. “But I have a Wench to cart around.”

“Don’t you have drill that weekend?” Tyrion asked as Jaime shoved back into his pea coat.

“One handed captain, Tyrion.” Jaime said with a wave of his prosthetic. “I’m sure they can do without me for a week. I already put in for the leave. Colonel Selmy was oddly happy to grant it.”

Sansa breezed into the foyer, a stack of fabrics over her arm. He had told her that she needn’t make anything, that Casterly had plenty of gold to buy whatever she needed. Sansa had merely kissed the top of his head and smiled. 

“Are you leaving, Jaime?” she asked her good brother. “Stay and have some tea.”

He struggled to button his coat and nodded. “I must get back to the barracks. I came to use the phone. Your husband was kind enough to let me run up your long distance bill.”

She rubbed Tyrion’s blonde curls and smiled. “He is good that way. You will be here next weekend, my mother is coming to visit.”

“Oh, yes.” Tyrion said to his wife, but glared toward his brother. “He even took the week off for it.”

A small tremor of surprise flitted across the young woman’s face. “Truly?” she asked.

Jaime smiled at his good sister. “You know how important family is. RIght, Tyrion?” Jaime offered a save before leaving.

“I’m making tea.” Sansa said with a tilt of her head. “Have a cup with me? We can listen to Mysterious Traveller, it’s on in five minutes.”

Tyrion nodded and followed his wife to the living room. THere was something odd going on around him, he was certain of it. But, who could care when a beautiful woman offers to make you tea and tolerate science fiction radio?

There would be time to unravel the threads later. Tonight, his wife was in a giving mood and he would enjoy it lest its the last for a while.

VvVvVvVvV

“But I don’t understand.” Brienne whined. It was her turn to pace the living room as Catelyn sat primly .

“Brienne, I am closing up the house. No one is here but you, me and Nan. It’s time to downsize.”

“But, Bran and Rickon will be home after a time. And what about Robb? Isn’t he coming for Winter’s Mass?”

Catelyn shook her head. “Brienne. `the house is too expensive to keep open. I have procured a place closer to Sansa in King’s Landing. And, besides, you will be finished with school after this term. It’s time you started thinking about the future.

She wanted to cry, but it would not do to show weakness. Tears were a woman’s weapons and Brienne had always used weapons of larger scale. There were no places in King’s Landing for her to continue her practice. SHe would not be allowed onto a firing range as a woman, even in this modern age. “I could help out. I have my trust---”

“No,” Catlyn waved away the offer. “That is your money my dear. Brienne, we did not take you in to leave you penniless.” Catelyn leaned closer into the girl’s pacing form. “Brienne, this is the natural order of things. Surely you knew that eventually you would attend college.”

She hadn’t.

Brienne twisted the pillow in her hands and fought back the tears. “Catelyn offered her a stony look. “Bran and Rickon are in facilities in King’s Landing. Arya is at Riverrun, and Sansa lives in King’s Landing now. Can you understand I want to be close to them?”

Shamed, Brienne nodded. It was unfair to her foster family for her to want to stay in the safe haven that she had found after her father’s death. Brienne sat in the overstuffed chair across from Catelyn. “Mr. Lannister said--”

Catelyn angled closer across the distance. “Jaime Lannister?” she asked. “Is that who was on the phone earlier?”

“Well, yes. He said that you asked him to take me around to schools. Why him?” she asked angrily.

Catelyn studied the girl for a full minute, the silence crept around Brienne like a scratchy wool blanket. Finally, she spoke. “He seems to have taken a shine to you.”

“Miss Catelyn! That is not true. He is irritating, conceited, mean spirited and--”

“Do you recall what you promised me a month ago?”

She did. “Yes, I recall.”

Catelyn nodded. “I need anything i can find out about this so called marriage my daughter has embarked upon. I need to know she is safe, Brienne. Daughters often don;t tell their mothers everything. Sansa and I were close, once, but in this one thing she has closed herself off from me. I suppose she never forgave me for sending her away to that boarding school after.... “ Catelyn’s breath caught as the memories. “When Ned died...it affected all of us in different ways, but Sansa. It’s just not like her. I need your help. “

“Yes, Miss Catelyn.”

“Good,” Catelyn said and rose from her seat. “It’s all settled then. We will take the train next Sunday.”

Brienne nodded dumbly trying not to feel as though she was being tossed to the lions. 

“And, Brienne.” Catelyn called from the doorway, already in a far better mood. “Remember that discretion is the better part of valor.”


	6. Can't We Be Friends?

He awoke bathed in his own sweat. Again. It had been three years since he was on a battlefield, but his nightmares had yet to be informed.

Jaime swung his legs over the edge of his bunk and lit a cigarette. He hated smoking but it was the only thing that cleared his mind after the dreams. 

The sun had not even crested over the horizon. The barracks was still silent and Jaime was grateful the officers’ quarters being housed across from the enlisted barracks. The enlisted men tended to party and cavort well into the night, since the war ended, there was little to do other than drill, practice, clean weapons and prepare for the next war. 

He reached for the light with his stump and cursed old habits. Three years and he still thought he was a whole man. They had tried to boot him out of the service, Selmy often remarked about what good was a sharpshooter who could no longer hold a weapon properly?

The debate had managed to reach HQ, but Jaime had argued that if Pete Grey could maintain a .308 batting average with the Browns, then there was no reason he should be made to give up his own career either. 

Jaime was certain it was his father who had much and more to do with trying to truncate his military career. Tywin Lannister was not happy about his son choosing service over sitting at his right side.

Jaime stubbed out his smoke and crawled to sit against the wall of his cot. He leaned his head back and let his arms rest on his knees. It had been a long three years of constant battle, the worst part wasn’t the pain, or even the ghost pains. The worst part had been the looks. Pity, even from his dwarf brother. Then there were the others who looked at him as if it was retribution for what he had done when he was 17.

He’d rather not wear the prosthetic, but he knew that if he walked around the base with his sleeve pinned, it wouldn’t be admiral looks that people gave most war heroes. 

But, the absolute worst part had been Cersei. 

When he was returned to a hospital on base, he waited for her to show up . He had been ready to tell her everything; how he lost his hand for a good and noble act. How he loved her and wanted to marry her. How she was the only thing he clung to as he felt the blood pumping out of his wound.

But she never came. 

And she never came.

And she never came.

Tyrion had sat on the edge of his bed telling jokes and sneaking him flasks of warm spiced rum. His father had stopped by for a hare’s breadth; long enough to tell him he was foolish to have ever joined the army, and even more foolish for wanting to stay in it. 

But in the three weeks he was in the base hospital, Cersei neither visited, nor called. 

Even now, three years later, there had never been a greater chasm than the one between the two. She barely acknowledged him at family gatherings, and avoided him where she could. 

Best not to dwell on that open wound, he thought. In truth, his love for her had shriveled into a fragmented thing that Jaime worried would take root again if the President’s wife gave it even a drop of water. 

He lit another cigarette and considered taking a leak and getting a shower. The first strains of daylight eked through the shades of his window and Jaime smiled. 

He would be transporting the Wench today.

If anyone asked, which at least Tyrion had, Jaime could not pinpoint what his fascination with the ugly girl was. She was sullen, stubborn and manish.

But, gods her eyes.

He pulled himself out of bed, the bad dreams and maudlin memories sudden shaken from his mind. A knock at the door meant his clerk had heard him stirring. “Sir,” Peck queried.

“Yeah, Peck. You can enter.” Jaime looked in his locker debating whether or not to wear dailys or civies, he felt the ridiculous desire to impress the wench and chose his dailys.

The tall, awkward PFC entered the room with a tray of breakfast and his messages tucked under on long thin arm. “You are off for vacation, Sir, but that does not stop the mail.”

“Obviously not, Peck,” Jaime took the proffered messages and considered tossing them. He was supposed to meet Brienne at 8 sharp, and he wanted to get a shave. “Think you can hold down the fort?” he asked the clerk. 

Peck nodded as he set out Jaime’s breakfast and marked off from some secret list on his clipboard. “There was a small skirmish on base last night. Three privates are in the infirmary, two were released. “

“What happened?” Jaime asked as he picked at his oatmeal. 

Peck plowed on. “Sergeant Clegane has been remanded by the MP’s and they require your signature to release him.”

“Ahh,” Jaime grinned. “Of course. The usual?”

“Two days of lost messages and one more day of avoiding the Staff Sergeant in charge.” Peck grinned back.

“You would think he would learn.” Jaime sighed. 

“Perhaps we should get his DD 214 lined up for the next time this happens.” Peck offered as he always did when Gregor Clegane wound up in the clink.

“And release him out into the wild?” Jaime shook his head. “No, the world is safer with him on the other side of that uniform. But, maybe sending him out to Essos might help me sleep better at night. “ Peck nodded. “Anything else?”

Peck continued to read off the list of necessary details to be done before he rolled out for a week. Jaime signed and initialed and signed and initialed until he was cleared for his leave. 

By the time Jaime made it to his car he felt, light? Expectant?

Happy?

He even caught himself whistling before he could stop it. Catelyn and Brienne had arrived in King’s Landing by train two nights ago, and it took everything he had not to bail for his leave early. There was no room at Tyrion and Sansa’s cottage, so Jaime rented himself a hotel near their place.

She was on the front stoop when he arrived. Grey slacks and an Oxford shirt, she looked like she was ready for her first day of work rather than a woman excited about becoming a college student. Brienne looked like a woman trying to fold into herself. She clutched her bag like it was the last life vest and the Titanic was due to sink any minute.

She looks terrified. 

He opened the door for her and gave an honest smile. “You look snazzy today.”

She turned to him with her mouth agape then slammed it shut quickly.

Undeterred, Jaime continued smiling. “All right, first stop, KLU”

VvVvVvV

If he didn’t stop looking at her Brienne swore to herself she would bolt at the first stop sign. Thankful that the man preferred Oldsmobiles that offered more room, Brienne slid to one side of her seat and looked out the window. “I think you might like KLU.” Jaime said after a five minute silence, which honestly, when he didn’t talk it was much worse.

“I had wanted to go there, but my father said state schools were not appropriate for Lannister.”

“Way to promote the place,“ Brienne sighed into the window. 

King’s Landing University was a bustling hive of bodies. Jaime parked in front of the administration building and lead her up the stairway into the cool dark building. Jaime perused the student body with a scowl. “Seems like the student body is more male than i would have thought.” he announced.

“What does that matter?” Brienne scuffed.

“Of course, you’ll fit right in, then.” 

“What are you planning on studying, anyway?” he asked her as they flipped through brochures awaiting their turn.

“To be honest, I never considered it.” Brienne shrugged. The brochures offered a long list of programs of study and activities that, to Brienne, looked painful.

`’Well, what do you want to be when you...grow up...more...p;der?” Jaime’s face had crinkled into that mocking glare she had already come to know too well. 

“I don’t know.” she sighed. She could feel Jaime tense at her side. “I just always thought i would live at Winterfell.”

“What did you want to be before Winterfell?” he asked.

“Annie Oakley.” she said before she realized what had tumbled out of her mouth. It was the truth but she had not meant to speak it out loud. 

Comically, Jaime rifled through the catalogue, “nope, so sharp shooter classes here. Not even a gun club.”

“You can stop mocking me at any time.”

“Okay, I choose December 31, 1999.” he laughed. “You find anything?” 

Brienne looked up to find the registrar waving them forward. “Hello, and good morning!” the woman said once her smile readjusted herself. Brienne knew that response well; once people got a closer look at her face and size, they knew their eyes were not playing tricks on them. It had ceased to surprise her long ago, but the blatant affectation of the woman in the brightly floral dress took her off guard. 

She must have stood gaping for too long because it was Jaime who answered. “We’re interested in information for registration.” 

Brienne wondered at his use of the word ‘we,’ but the curly haired seemed to take a different meaning. “For you and your....wife?” she fished.

Brienne felt Jaime’s arm slink around her was it and visibly tensed at the movement. “No, just her. I already have my degree.”

Brienne turned to frown at him, but Jaime plowed on. “She’s not sure what she wants to study, is there a program here for general studies?”

The clerk dipped her head, “Yes, of course.” 

Jaime gave an indignant sigh. “It’s just that, i attended Lannisterly. Different system.” Jaime sniffed. “Much harder to get into.”

Brienne elbowed him in the side but the damage was already done. The registrar’s already thin lips tightened into a tight line. “Right.” she said shoving a sheaf of papers across the desk. “You should find all you need in there.”

“Thanks,” Brienne finally managed as the clerk called for the next person in line.

In the car, she fumed silently until they were pointed back onto the main street. “Don’t speak for me.” she finally pressed.

“Well, someone had to.” Jaime said. “Why do you let people do that?”

“I don’t let anyone do anything.” Brienne said, clutching the university papers until they buckled under her anger. “I have had all my life to get used to my...situation. I don’t need pity from someone who has already made clear their view of my failings.”

Silence descended in the car. Jaime seemed contrite and Brienne hoped her declaration was clear.

“You make your own way in life, Brienne.” he said. “Take who you are and own it. You can’t change who you are no more than i can grow another hand.” He raised it for clarity. 

“Are you trying to give me advice?” she asked. 

“Brienne, people are always going to find fault with--”

“What do you know about people judging you? What do you know about being pigeon holed before you open you even open your mouth?” 

Jaime’s face set into a grim mask. “I know enough.” he gritted. “I know to be who i am and let the chips fall as they may. Who cares what others think?”

Brienne shook her head. She did not want to be trapped in this car with him any longer. “Take me home.”

“Winterfell is an 8 hour drive,” he said with a grin.

“You know what I mean.” She raised in her seat and glared at him. “I want to go back.”

Jaime pulled to the side of the road, “We have all day. I thought we could go look at one of the all female schools, maybe stop at a diner.”

“No, I’ve had enough.” Brienne raised her chin and held her back straight. “I’d like to go back now.”

Jaime slid the car back into traffic. “Fine.” he said.

“Fine.” she agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Pete Grey was an outfielder for the Cleveland Browns, he only had one season (1945). When the troops came back from WWII, the one handed baseball player was sent back to the minors. For the purpose of this story, and my own personal proclivities, he was allowed to stay in until he retired (1952).
> 
> *Jim Abbot was another one handed baseball player, and an honest to god legend. He was a pitcher from '89 to 99. He played for several teams, including my faves (White Sox) I always thought someone could do a J and B story with that.


	7. Sly Mongoose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, longer chapter ahead.
> 
> And, who is the sly mongoose

‘I honestly have no idea why Mother would subject you to being driven around and cahooting with that man.” Sansa said as she brewed the tea. “I swear, sometimes her reasoning is flawed.”

Brienne sat at the kitchen table twisting another paper napkin into oblivion. “It wasn’t that bad, Mi...Sansa.”

Sansa made a derisive sound and shook her head. “She’s off with Petyr Baelish for the day.” 

Brienne wasn’t surprised. “I hate that man,” she near whispered.

Sansa turned with the teapot in her hand. “Baelish?” she whispered back.

“He gives me the willies.” Brienne nodded. “He reminds me of the villain in all those vaudeville plays.”

Sansa set the teapot back onto the stove. She brought the tea to the table and sat next to Brienne. “Oh, I imagine he is much worse than that.” Sansa nodded. It felt good, to share a secret with the woman she had grown up with. She and Sansa could never have been more different, and having this one thing between them felt like a bridge into the world of friendship. 

“I know what he does to make his money.” Brienne said. She had found out when Robb had been home last, over a year ago. 

Sansa nodded. “Mother knows as well, yet she behaves as if it is the most natural thing in the world.” Sansa took a sip of her tea. “Then, she tries to shame me for my…”

Brienne nodded, understanding what she meant. “Why does she trust him so?”

Sansa’s eyes darkened and her hands twitched around her cup. “They grew up together. He was always a little sweet on her.” Sansa said. “And, she doesn’t know what I know.”

Brienne frowned. “What’s that?”

But Sansa smiled and waved it away. “So, tell me about KLU?”

“I didn’t see much of it. I talked to a registrar, took some information” Brienne tapped the papers at her side. “And we left.”

“You didn’t get a tour? You should have taken a tour. Especially the dormitories.” Sansa’s face eased into a softer, lighter visage. “Were there a lot of men on campus?” she asked. 

Brienne smiled a that. Jaime had had the same observation. “There were a lot there.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon playing parcheesi and cribbage. Sansa

“I would have liked to attend college.” Sansa said wistfully after winning her fourth game of spades. “I would have loved to be a nurse.”

“You still can, you know.” Brienne said. 

“I suppose...after.” she made a face then went on. “Of course, then i would need a maid, or nanny or whatever the hell it is people get for something like that.” 

“You could, I mean, it’s not as if you are wont for money. Tyrion works with his father, why not do something instead of puttering about the house all day.”

Sansa shrugged then, “I suppose, but still” she cast her eyes about the elegant kitchen. “It wouldn’t be the same, would it?”

Brienne shrugged.

VvVvVvVvV

Catelyn had not been pleased when Brienne recounted her morning. “Only one college?” she asked in their shared guest room. “Why did you only visit one?”

Brienne never felt comfortable under scrutiny; she fidgeted in her gown while sat upon her twin bed. “He is insufferable.”

Catelyn nodded. “Of course, he’s one of them.”

Brienne knew what the them was, but wisely chose not to acknowledge the comment. “I just can’t, Miss Catelyn.”

“Well, it was only one day. I am sure you will be stronger tomorrow.”

Brenne doubted Jaime would turn up the next day, after the argument in the car, she prayed he wouldn’t. “Why not ask Petyr to help find out about--”

“Catelyn flashed a look at the girl. “Petyr isn’t able to help me with this. He isn’t well trusted by the Lannister family.” Cately accused. “But, you are.”

Brienne’s hands fidgeted in her lap. “I doubt Mr. Lannister will even come tomorrow.” she said. “Our first day was awful. Just awful.”

Catelyn flicked off the light so Brienne could not measure the woman’s face. “Good night, Brienne.”

VvVvVvVvV

It was Sansa shaking her awake the next morning. “Brienne, your ride is here.”

Still hovering in the fog of sleep, Brienne twisted around the blankets and sheets and sunk further into the bed. “What?” she mumbled. 

“Jaime’s here. Breakfast in ten. “

Jaime had spread himself over the dining room chair in the far corner of the table. His eyes followed her as she took the seat as far away from him as possible. 

“So, where are you visiting today?” Catelyn asked.

“I thought we should see some of the female colleges today.” Jaime drawled around his wheat toast. “I think our girl could benefit from a solid, unmolested education.”

Brienne scowled at him, his returning grin. “I will benefit from any education I choose.” 

“Of course you will, dear.” Catelyn soothed. “Mr. Lannister, i cannot thank you enough for assisting Brienne in finding the right school.”

He spoke to Catelyn, but his eyes pinned Brienne. “Its entirely my own pleasure, Mrs. Stark.”

VvVvVvV

Sansa waved to her mother and closed the door, Catelyn Stark was off for another day with Petyr Baelish. This day, she claimed, was for looking at suitable accommodations. She had asked her mother if Brienne was aware of Catelyn’s desire for her to reside in the dormitories a=t college. Catelyn had shrugged and said it was the very least of her concerns with everything else going on. But, Catelyn was certain that Brienne was a smart and resourceful girl who could handle any situation that arose. 

“I need to focus on Bran and Rickon.” she said by way of explanation. “Brienne need not be bound by responsibilities.”

Tyrion still say=t at the table, munching on the last of his burnt bacon and reading the Wall Street Journal. He eyed her as he always did; something frail and in a cage. “Everything alright?” he asked.

She sat down next to him and sipped her tea. “I am worried for Brienne.” 

Tyrion nodded. “Your mother seems to be ready to cast her aside, which surprises me. They seem so close.”

“It makes little and no sense. I know with everything that she is dealing with for Bran and Rickon has left her with little time for anything, or anyone else.”

Her husband placed his smaller hand on hers. “I know it has been difficult for you, Sansa.” he said. 

Her first instinct had been to move her hand from his; their marriage didn’t allow for touching. But, she oddly felt comforted b the gesture. “It’s been difficult for all of us. Robb is stationed so far away, Jon has gone missing. Arya is away at school and…” she shook off the sadness. 

Tyrion continued to consider her with his mismatched eyes. “If there is anything i can do?” he said. 

“What is going on with your brother?” she asked suddenly. 

Tyrion laughed then. “I wish I knew. It would seem he has developed a sort of--crush? On the poor girl.”

She studied him then, not sure how to approach him in regards to a brother he was obviously close to. “Couldn’t you take her around to schools? I am sure your father would give you a few days off--”

“I already suggested it to your mother, she seems resigned to her present decision.”

Sansa nodded. She had tried as well. “Is he….” Sansa cleared her throat. “Is he capable of hurting her?” 

Tyrion shook his head immediately. “Only with his mouth, which he never did have much control over.”

“Words can hurt just as much as anything else, Tyrion. I would think you understood that more than most.”

Tyrion nodded, “I will try to talk to him again, Sansa.” He squeezed her hand and sighed. “But now, i must go off to work. I suppose given my stature i ought whistle.”

Sansa kissed the top of his head again and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” he told her as she helped him into his coat and handed him his lunch.”

VvVvVvVv

She was all cornered doe again. Backed into a corner, frightened, but ready to fight at the slightest incursion. 

Jaime pointed the car onto the Kingsroad, which would take them to the small campus outside of the city limits. “You didn’t think I would come.” He said after ten minutes of silence that laid thicker than than the scum over the Bay.

Brienne shrugged, her head rested on the window. 

He sighed, not sure if it was even worth it. He could do this, today, even tomorrow. But, sitting in his car with this...plank, was going to drive him to the boobie hatch.

“Another five minutes into the drive Jaime tried again. “Look, I didn’t mean anything yesterday. I really am trying to help.”

It was Brienne’s turn to sigh. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then slammed it shut again.   
Jaime angled into the gate to campus and shrugged. “Visenya College is a good school. “ Jaime looked around at the gothic archetecture and was hit with more memories than he cared to acknowledge. “My sister went here.”

Brienne frowned. Jaime considered her scowl as a new form of afectation...confusion? Had she not known that there was a third Lannister? “Twin sister. She’s the older one.”

Brienne nodded and slid from the car. “I didn’t know you had a sister. That you and Tyrion…” Brienne bristled at his condescending smile. “She wasn’t at the wedding.”

It was an olive branch, and Jaime was willing to take what he could get, even if it was a topic he hated. “She graduated with a Bachelor’s in Liberal Arts.” With a scowl of his own, he added. “And her Mrs.”

They made their way through the sunlit campus. Women strolled the lawn in varying degrees--from long skirts and frilly tops to dungarees rolled to their ankles and short sleeves crops that must have left them shivering in the late fall air. “So, where is she.” Brienne said with what sounded like honest curiosity to Jaime’s ears. 

“Oh, I’m sure you know her.” he smiled. “Cersei Baratheon.”

Brienne stopped in front of the admin building, nearly colliding into three girls who walked in near similar attire, each with a cigarette dangled from their fingers. “Your sister is the wife of the President?” she asked, eyes wide, face scrunched.

He took her elbow to guide her up the stairs. “Betcha didn’t know you were riding around with royalty, eh Wench?” He shook his head. “How can one woman be so thick?” 

She pulled from his gentle grip and hauled herself up the stairs. “Neither one of you ever mentioned her.” 

Jaime reached around her large frame to push the wide door open for her. “If you met my sister, you would understand why.” he huffed as she moved past him.

This time, Jaime sat in the metal chairs outside of the registrar’s office. He had given her a small nudge and let her know he would wait outside. He smiled at her initial look of fear, covered quickly with a steely glare of determination to prove that she could, in fact, speak for herself. 

And talk she must have, Brienne did not emerge for over an hour. When she emerged from the office, her face had the look of a woman who had been to hell, had met the devil and emerged with one of his horns for a souvenir. 

She clutched her packet close to her chest as he walked her back to the car. The sun had risen high above the copse of trees and the student body seemed to have nothing better to look at than him.

Seems as if things never changed.

“So, Visenya College then?” he asked, trying to find the chatty girl he had met on the stairs, but she had retreated again; replaced by the girl that had slid into his car that morning.

Brienne allowed the sheath of papers to lay over her lap and folded her arms. “It’s so far out. “ she announced. “I had hoped for something closer to King’s Landing. Catelyn would need me to be close.”

“There’s a bus that goes from here to the city.” Jaime said. 

“Is that how your sister got back and forth?”

“Noooooo,” he smiled at the thought of his sister on a bus. “Cersei had a driver, then a car. You could get one, a car I mean.”

Brienne looked at him as if he was crazy. “A car?” you mean like with a driver? Why would i spend money on that?”

Sometimes, the girl could be so dim, not in the way where she needed a helmet for daily activities, but almost childlike in her wonder.

Innocent.

“No,” he shook his head. “Your own car.”

Brienne slumped back into her seat. “That would be difficult, since i don’t have a license.”

Jaime perked up in his seat. “Ah, we could go now and handle that. It’s the best part of the day too, most people are at work--”

“I can’t drive, Mr. Lannister.” she said. “Robb and Jon always promised to teach me, but they never got around to it.”

“Ah,” Jaime nodded. “That would make things more difficult.” He said.

VvVvVvVvV

It was never a good omen when the first call of the day was a summons, especially one to the top floor. Tyrion sighed, resignation directed his feet to his father’s suite of offices.

Mentally, he checked off a list of reasons why his father would want to see him and could come up with none that would warrant a first thing in the morning meeting, he didn;t think Tywin Lannister would do anything too gory right after his morning meal.

He sat in the offered seat across from his father and tried to remember not to swing his legs as he waited for the older man to finish whatever the hell Tyrion was interrupting.

Finally, as if just realizing his youngest son was present, Tywin put down his pen and considered the man. “Tyrion,”

“Father.” he nodded back.

“I hope married life is everything you imagined?”

It was his father’s way of acknowledging that he had won, yet again. Tyrion clenched his hands into fists but did not allow the anger to cross his broad face. “Of course, “ he said instead.

“And Sansa, she’s well?”

Tyrion blinked, wondering where the accusation would come from and how fast he could get around it. “She’s well. Expanding every day.”

“Good.” Tywin nodded again, leaned back into his decadent Italian leather chair and clasped his hands in his lap. Tyrion knew, this was Tywin taking the lead. One was supposed to be taken off guard with this stance; Tywin Lannister relaxed could not grip your throat in anger, nor reach his weighted brass desk caddy to smash into one’s nuts.

But, anyone who was fool enough to underestimate Tywin Lannister, in any form of repose, rarely lived to tell the tale. 

Just ask the Tarbecks, a once wealthy family whose holdings once rivalled Lannister Inc. Now, they could be found living in a not so comfortable walk up in Flea Bottom.

“Legacy is important, Tyrion. You will understand that soon enough.”

“Ah, yes. The yet to be samed eventual Lannister. Too bad I cannot take credit for that.” He was tiring of the game, his father’s demeanor was setting him on edge. Even in baseball the wind up wasn’t this long. 

Tywin’s piercing glare was the first warning that Tyrion was dancing on a warped floor. He scooted back into his seat and mirrored his father’s posture.

Ready to fight.

“Who is this girl your brother is carting around with?”

It was rare that his father could catch him off guard. Even when he was informed of his impending marriage, Tyrion had known he would be exiting the room that day with a brand new target on his back.

This was new. “I’m sorry?” he asked, surprised that the conversation was not about him.

Tywin waved his hand in annoyance. “You heard me quite well, Tyrion. Drop the theatrics. “

Why was everyone suddenly paying so much attention to Brienne Tarth? He wondered to himself, but kept the thought silent. “She was at the wedding. She is the ward of my good mother.”

“And why has Jaime taken a sudden interest in her?” he asked. 

Tyrion shrugged, unsure of how his father would already know about it. “Catelyn Stark asked him to help Brienne find a suitable college to attend.”

Tywin nodded as if he already knew this information. “And Jaime?”

“I have no idea, Father. In case you haven’t noticed, i have a new wife and sudden family to deal with.”

“Don’t get mouthy, boy.” Tywin sneered. “I expect you to keep me appraised of these things. I should not have to hear about this from the likes of Littlefinger.”

Of course. Despite his protestations, Catelyn Stark had invited him into his house more times than he would like. Aside from the man’s shady nature, whenever he was around his wife became sullen, twitchy and quiet. “So, you want to be my brother’s keeper?”

Tywin offered another glare. “You like your position as Chief Financial Officer here?” Tywin said by way of a threat.

“Tyrion tilted his head back, eyes rolling of their own volition. “Of course. What would a meeting in this office be without a subtle threat.”

“Tyrion!” Tywin hissed. “You will tell me of anything between your brother and this girl.” His father’s features schooled into its typical mask. “Legacy is important, if your brother is serious about someone, then i need to know. Legacy, Tyrion.”

Tyrion offered a mock salute and slid off the seat. 

Just another day.


	8. I've Got A Right To Sing the Blues

By Saturday, Brienne had been to ten different universities, including all of the seven silent sister campuses. Jaime had poked, prodded and cajoled her verbally every step of the way. She wondered if the High Septon could have as much patience as anyone forced into any long term relation with the insufferably, beautiful man.

Brienne had to admit his beauty, there was no way to work around it. All of her life had been cast in the shadow of her less than plain looks, it was her foster brothers who had made school entirely bearable. Jon, Robb and even Theon, the Starks other ward, made sure that she was treated as a Stark at the school in Winterfell. But, by high school, Sansa had been moved to the expensive boarding school in King’s Landing and they had all graduated.

To say that high school was a challenge was kind. She had, once again, been cast out into the world on her own, only finding solace at Winterfell. High school had reminded her that there were few kindnesses in the world, save for those that had taken her in and made her family when she had none.

They were set to leave for Winterfell on Sunday night, the late train would allow for Catelyn and Brienne to sleep their way back North. Brienne had not see much of Catelyn since they arrived in King’s Landing, and she had felt that loss as deeply as the hate she felt for the exasperating chauffeur who could not keep his mouth shut for longer than the span of a red light. 

Perhaps it was the absence of Catelyn, or the evenings that week spent in her company, but Brienne could feel a closeness develop between herself and Sansa, someone she had always felt was so unlike herself when they shared the same residence. Most evenings they would sit together with Tyrion and Jaime in the parlor; the brothers seemed to have their own comedy act and the two women revelled in the quick witted banter between the two. 

She realized she spent a lot of time watching the newly married couple; they weren’t what she had imagined newlyweds would be. While there was a closeness between the two there was also a distinct distance that followed the pair around the house like a neon sign. Brienne began to wonder if there was something to Miss Catelyn’s insistence that her daughter had not, in fact, married for love.

But in those moments she would watch them, there was also a combined strength that Brienne could not deny. In some ways, she found herself envying them; that they had each other when everything else in the world seemed to be hanging by a fine, frayed thread. 

Brienne had planned on resting that last day in Winterfell; she had already decided on a campus and had sent all her applications and forms in the post the night before. It had been her plan to review her options with Catelyn so she could help her make a decision; but Catelyn had remained away that night and Brienne knew a decision needed to be taken before all other options were exhausted. 

She came down for breakfast to find Mr. Lannister in his typical prone position, lounged against the usual chair he favored at the dining table. He smiled at her surprised glare. “Mr. Lannister, surely there are no colleges open today.”

He tipped back in his chair and folded his arms. “Such conceit! Who says I am here to drag you about?” 

Brienne opened her mouth to object, “Jaime, behave yourself. We all know why you are here.” Tyrion said, his eyes slanted toward his brother. “And I think you should take the day for yourself and give the poor girl a rest. She is travelling tomorrow.”

Brienne frowned in confusion, but Jaime was nonplussed by his brother’s accusations. “You’ve not seen any of the city you are soon to call home, Wench. I am offering my services to take you about.”

Sansa was a mask of aborted conversation, but she looked as if a warning was somewhere in the words she didn’t say. “Brienne has already decided upon a school. Haven’t you Brienne?” she said instead.

Brienne nodded but wasn’t sure if that was the proper and expected response. There was a conversation going on in the room; silent yet loud enough to deafen.

“Have you?” Jaime asked with that smile of his that always set her on edge. “Which one?”

“KLU.” Brienne announced as she began to fill her plate.

Jaime sat forward then. “Really? KLU?” he asked with an edge. “It’s co-ed!”

It was Tyrion who spoke up. “A fine educational institution. I am sure Brienne will receive a wonderfully rounded education there.” 

Jaime made a noise and moved his food around his plate. “Then we should go and take the tour. Make sure the female residence is all in order. Safety first, Wench.”

I have seen all I need to see, Mr. Lannister. I have made my decision and I am in no further need of assistance.” She asserted.

“Of course.” Jaime nodded. “But, perhaps you could be of assistance for me then, today.”

VvVvVvVvV

He’d accustomed to the silences his wife would affect when her mood was such. He knew what her anger was about and could not fault her in the least. “If it’s any consolation,” he said to the redhead’s retreating form. “I don’t think he has any nefarious ideals toward her.”

Sansa turned with the remaining dishes in her hand. “You would say that, he’s your brother.”

Tyrion stood and began to remove the glasses and silverware. “He is, but i think this may be the one time I can say it without lying.”

“You, lie?” she asked with a smirk.

Tyrion smiled as he crept around the table balancing items in his too small hands. “Of course I lie, Sansa.” he said. “But, never to you.”

She nodded and took the dishes from his hands. He followed her into the kitchen where the stool was waiting by the sink. Sansa had refused to hire help, the same way she still sewed her own clothes and now began a series of smaller projects. Tyrion climbed onto his spot and began drying dishes as Sansa washed. “He is far too old for her.” Sansa said after handing him the iron skillet.

“Yes, and I am too old for you.” he sighed. 

Sansa laughed lightly but shook her head. “You are, and yet here we are.”

“Yes, here we are.”

“I had thought...I mean that Petyr had once said to my mother that…”

Tyrion sighed into the conversation, “your mother trusts Petyr Baelish entirely too much.” 

Sansa nodded then, a slow acceptance of a truth they both knew. “He is a disgusting man who…”

He held the platter in his hands and waited for her to finish her accusation. “Go on, Sansa. Say what you mean.”

Her shoulders hunched as she continued to soap the glass in her hand into a bubbly mass of incoherence. “I had heard that your brother and sister were...close.” She had whispered the words, but the last one came as a hiss.

Tyrion was certain to be getting it from all sides now, first his father and now his wife. But, he refused to allow whatever his brother was doing to interfere with what little of his marriage he had. In the two months since their wedding, he had developed the most unfortunate crush on the woman he was married to; adding strife wouldn’t further endear her to him. “I told you i would talk to him.” he offered, not meeting her eyes. “And I am certain this will all pass once she returns to Winterfell tomorrow.”

“Let’s hope so.” Sansa said. “I wouldn’t wish upon her what I have endured.”

Tyrion nodded, realizing for once he could not put himself into the role of victim. He could have refused to marry her; could have left her for whatever her mother had hinted at for other options. In the end, he had to admit his selfishness; that he had wanted to play hero in some way. “I am sorry.” he said finally.

Sansa leaned over and kissed his forehead. “You were a knight in shining armor.” she said with a final nod. “I didn;t mean you, you know that.”

“Of course.” he nodded. 

“Mother has left Brienne to her own devices. Brienne has always been close to her, I don’t know what the poor thing will do.” she handed him another glass, this time properly rinsed.

“She will be 18 soon, she’ll come into her own and won’t need any financial help.”

Sansa shook her head. “That’s not what I mean, Tyrion. She doesn’t have anyone. She lost all of her family, and now she is losing her second one.”

“What is your mother doing?” he asked. “Its as if she has gone into a tailspin.”

“She has lost everyone, Robb hasn’t been heard from in months, Arya needed to be in a boarding school that would accommodate her...anger. “ sansa shook her head. “I need to go and see Rickon and Bran after Mother and Brienne return to WInterfell.”

He nodded, “all right.” 

“But, Brienne. Mother hasn’t even told her anything yet.” Sansa placed the final dish into his hands and turned off the water. “She doesn’t have anyone looking out for her. She doesn’t have a place to come to where they must take her in.”

Tyrion stopped to look at her then; wondering not for the first time how she could have so much compassion after all she had been through. How she could endure being married to someone that must remind her of the man who had tossed her aside. “Then,” he said turning to dry another dish, “we will make sure she knows she always has a home here.”

The smile that Sansa offered him nearly sent him falling from the stool. She graced another kiss onto his forehead, this one longer and softer than any of the others she had placed. “Thanks you.” she said. 

VvVvVvVvV

“...no, stop!” He commanded.

“....I’m not doing anything!” Brienne shouted back.

“That’s entirely the problem!” Jaime said through gritted teeth. “Put your foot there. There!” 

“Stop telling me what to do!”

“Start doing as you’re told!”

Jaime careened to the side as she turned too fast. “Seven Hells, woman you are going to be the death of me!”

She turned her murder lamps onto him and even though tinged with fiery anger, he felt his breath catch. “This wasn’t my idea! If I kill you, it’s on your head.”

Jaime leaned into her space again, certain that this was a good idea despite her clucking. “Ease off a little at a time.” He tried, softer. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this!” she threw her hands into the air, slamming her maws into the roof of the car. 

“Of course we should. You need to learn. Now, again. Clutch.”

Brienne huffed in exasperation, she placed her foot on the clutch, popped into first gear and tried to ease her foot off easily. The borrowed car came to a shuddering, stuttering, halt. “I can;t do this.” 

Jaime had ignored her questions about his need for help as he’d pulled into the base. Peck was waiting next to his parking space with a set of keys. He had exchanged his car for one that was smaller. 

“Why are we changing cars?” She’d asked as he stood outside of the car. 

“Because you can’t drive this one.” he said with a grin. He was crouched down and speaking to her through the opened window. 

“I can’t drive either one.” Brienne had protested with arms folded and a defiant grimace etched on her face. 

“True, but we are going to change that today.” he said. “And my car has a modified stick.” he pointed to the steering column. “It’s better you learn on a regular auto.”

“How about I not learn at all?” she asked.

“COme one, Peck here was nice enough to come and help me out. Don’t make him have changed plans with his girl for nothing.” He looked at Peck. “How is Pia, anyway?”

“Fine sir, looking forward to spending the day riding around in a real car.” Peck smiled, leaning against the rim of the car. 

“You said you needed my help.” she squeaked as he opened the passenger side door. 

“I do, I need to move that car,” he pointed to the one Peck stood by. “Over there.”

Brienne frowned, “I am not going to drive that.” she asserted.

“Chicken?” Jaime taunted. He began to make clucking noises for effect. It worked, Brienne emerged from the car, arms still folded. “You are a child.” she huffed.

Jaime just smiled and watched Peck drive off with his car. “He really likes that girl. I thought it would be nice for the two of them to have a day out in a fine car.” he said. 

Two hours later, and she was still struggling with shifting. He had planned to have her drive around the city, there were sure to be fewer cars on a Saturday afternoon. They had started in the lot on base where the other military vehicles were parked. Now, Jaime worried they would be there all day.

Brienne sat scrunched into the seat, fuming. “This is useless.” she said. 

Jaime refused to acknowledge her defeat. He was certain it was something she was far too accustomed with. “Try again.” he said, moving the brake. Brienne flashed another angry glare his way but, she took a breath and silenced him with her glare before maneuvering into a perfect acceleration.

He said nothing, offered her a smile as she eased into second gear and turned into the next section of the lot. Jaime whistled as she continued into a third turn, braked and glared at him. “Now can we stop?” she asked. 

“Sure,” Jaime nodded with a grin. “But, Peck isn’t due back for another four hours and I can’t drive this car.” He raised his right hand as if proof was necessary.

Brienne looked as if she were considering how she could get him out of the car so she could use him as a speed bump, but instead, she took the brake off and pointed the car again.

Two hours and one hundred stalls later, they found themselves in one of the diners in King’s Landing. Jaime munched around his burger while Brienne glared into her chocolate shake as if it were an offending piece of gum at the bottom of her shoe. “Tell me about Tarth,” he said “I’ve never been there.” 

“I haven’t been there since…” she stopped, “I’m probably the wrong person to give a travelogue.”

Jaime spread his hands in front of him. “Surely you recall something. “

Brienne shrugged from across the formica table. “Just stuff we used to do.”

“Like what?” 

She shrugged again and took another fry from her plate. “My dad was away a lot, but when he came home for leave he would take me fishing.”

“Fishing?” Jaime leaned in closer, “You went fishing? Weren’t there other things to do on that island”

“Have you ever gone fishing?” She asked, it surprised Jaime to realize it was the first time she had asked him a question about himself. “No,,” he answered with a shake of his head. “Never had the inclination.”

Brienne nodded and murmured something about rich kids. “It’s not so much the fishing.” she defended, “it was...we spent time together. Time was precious then. I only wish i had known how precious it was. “ Some base confusion must have been evident in his face because the girl went on. “It was a way to spend time with my father, didn’t you have that? Something special you did with your father?”

Jaime snorted into his Coke, “Not really, not everyone has parents that they would want to spend time with.”

She sat straighter at his words. “We would go at first light, the first morning of his leave. We had this big hamper and we would fill it with food and go. “

“All day?” he asked. 

“Until we talked everything out. Until we knew everything we missed out on each other the time he was gone. He would tell me about things his soldiers did, funny stories…looking back I am certain he left out a lot of the…”

Jaime smiled despite himself, it was the most the wench had talked about herself. He nodded, knowing there were stories a father would not tell a young daughter. “War is the Seven Hells, Brienne.” 

Silence fell between them, Jaime called for their check and scooted out of the booth. “Peck should have finished his day with his girl. We should get back.”

Brienne drained the last of her shake and followed him to the car. This time, Jaime noted, she drove with a fluency that made him smile to himself. She may be a slow learner, but she wasn’t stupid. 

He felt something akin to pride as she deftly angled into the parking spot where the car had been and smirked. “Well, looks like an old dog can learn new tricks.” he fired back.

“You are much older than me, Mr. Lannister.” Brienne huffed, but smiled as she slid out of the driver’s seat. “How old are you, anyway?”

He looked at her in the failing sunlight, she was much younger than him, but it took her question to force him into acquiescence. “I will be 30 in a few moons.” 

Peck and a small girl with brown hair came toward them. They wore matching smiles and moved closely together, nearly as one unit. “There’s the happy couple now.” Jaime said. 

VvVvVvVvV

He had taken her back to Sansa’s and left; an oddity sense typically Jaime Lannister hung about until she went to bed. A strange feeling of quiet settled into her as she watched him off. They were set to leave the next night, and Brienne found herself wondering if she would see him again before they left. 

In the end, Brienne had to admit his early departure was for the best; Miss Catelyn was seated in the parlor reading a magazine when she came in late that evening. “Brienne.” Catelyn smiled, “How was your day?”

Brienne looked around; both Sansa and Tyrion seemed to be out of the house as well; the entire situation made her hackles rise, but she sat in the chair next to Catelyn and folded her hands on her lap. “FIne. It was a fine day.” she nodded. 

“Good,” Catelyn nodded. “And have you chose a school?”

“Yes, I will take my studies at King’s Landing University.” 

Catelyn nodded as if she had already known the answer. “A fine institution, Brienne. The residence halls there are superb.”

Brienne felt as if someone had slapped her across the face, she had assumed she would stay with Miss Catelyn. “I don’t understand.”

Catelyn placed her hand in hers. “Things have changed so fast, child. I know it’s hard for you to understand. Brienne, you and I have been through the unimaginable. We have lost and we have survived. “

“Miss Catelyn--”

“We must remain strong, Brienne.” the older woman said with a kind smile. “Mr. Baelish, you recall him?”

Brienne nodded dumbly.

“He has asked me to marry him, and I have accepted.” Catelyn paused to look at her. “So you understand that the situation has changed?”

Brienne felt the sharp sting of tears, “You have?”

“I have, and so I must send you back to Winterfell without me. Nan will be there until you finish this last school term.” Catelyn grabbed for her twitching hands. “Brienne, you are stronger than you know.”

Brienne shook her head. “I’m not.” she insisted. 

Catelyn stood and patted the girl on the shoulder. “The only constant is change, Brienne. Take your new opportunities and make a life.”

Brienne turned toward her receding form. “Miss Catelyn, what about...you know? The things you wanted me to find out?” She had not even tried, but Brienne had hoped that the spectre of the request would remind Miss Caelyn that she needed her. 

“Catelyn turned around with a soft smile on her face. “There is little anything can be done, now. Brienne. “ she said to the still seated girl. “We all need to move forward and allow the chips to fall as they may. Sansa is safe, if not loved. That is all a mother can ask for.”

VvVvVvV

Brienne had not slept the entire night. She had tossed on the soft bed in the guest room, alone. Catelyn had left after their talk, claiming a need for procuring items for her new home. But, Brienne had never been invited to the house, nor had she any idea where it was. She knew from Sansa that the house was close to the facility where Bran was, and nearer still to Rickon.

But she still felt abandoned, again. Rationally, she knew her father had not chose to leave her, that as a military man he had little choice during the War, but it felt of abandonment nonetheless.

And now, Catelyn had released her of everything, told her to get on with her life and planned to send her to that great house alone until she matriculated high school.

The tears had come hot and persistent after she had climbed the stairs to her room last night. She had heard Sansa’s soft knock on the door, had ignored her friend's soft words of consolement, then cried on her shoulder. Sansa was kind, did not speak of anything, only allowed her friend the solace she desperately sought. 

Now, the early morning chill of a fading night spilled across the borrowed bed as she sat u. The birds morning dispatch was interrupted by a distinct thunk against her window. 

She didn’t get out of bed until the third thunk at the window. Brienne opened the window into the still dark morning to find Jaime Lannister poised to hurl a fourth rock. “Brienne!” he whispered.

“What are you doing?” 

The smile erupted across his face as he lowered his hand and waved. “COme down.” he said.

“It’s 4 in the morning. People are still sleeping.”

“You’re not.” he said. 

“How could I with someone hurling rocks at my window. “ she scowled at him. “And why are you here? Can’t you just use the front door like a normal person?”

“I didn’t want to wake anyone.” he said, “come down.”

“Why?” she asked.

Jaime disappeared from her field of view, he returned with something in his hand. He lifted the pole toward her and smiled. “Let’s go fishing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I love e e cummings, and I admit to being inspired by one of his poems for part of this chapter.
> 
>  
> 
> http://genius.com/E-e-cummings-she-being-brand-annotated


	9. What A Wonderful World

The dawn was beginning to crest over the copse of trees across the lake. They sat on the still pier with their lines in the water below. Brienne had taught him how to run the line for his pole and how to bait the hook. She watched as he managed an augmented maneuver with one hand. It was hard to not lean over and do for him when she saw him struggling, but Brienne knew a little something about how pity can affect one’s own ability to do for oneself. 

“See that,” he had said with a grin. “Even one handed, I can still tie a knot.”

She leaned over and patted his blonde head as if he were a toddler just learning to tie his shoes. She grinned as he leaned into her touch, then moved her hand as if burned.

“So, what now?” he asked as they sat with the pokes between them. 

“We wait.” she shrugged.

“Wait?” he asked looking as if he would bolt at any moment. “Wait for what?”

“A nibble.” Brienne nodded. The early morning chill had crept into her bones, but it felt good. It felt like a memory in three dimensions. The smells and sights were different to be sure; but sitting here after casting the lines had been a balm enough to put aside her loneliness after talking with Miss Catelyn. 

“A nibble?” Jamie parroted beside her. “I brought plenty of nibbles, Wench. A woman your size could probably polish off everything in here.” He patted the large hamper at his side. Brienne nodded, it was larger and newer than the one she and her father would pack together the night before their fishing trips. 

“The fish, nibble Mr. Lannister.” she huffed.

“Jaime.” he corrected into the silent morning.

“We wait until we feel a tug on the line.” She ignored his request as she had all morning. 

“What do we do until then?” he whined. 

Brienne set down her pole and moved toward the hamper. It was heavy enough that even she could not lift it. “We eat, we talk. We enjoy the scenery.”

Jaime huffed but took the wax wrapped sandwich she offered him from the hamper. “How much food is in here, anyway?” she asked digging through the hamper.

Jaime shrugged then and spoke around his bite. “I wanted to make sure we had enough to eat, until we knew each other. Given your size I figured I should pack accordingly.”

Brienne’s frown went unnoticed, Jaime continued to look across the lake at the sun’s steady rise. “It is peaceful.” he said finally.

“How did you lose your hand?” Brienne blurted, suddenly.

Jaime whipped his head around to her so fast he dropped the remains of his sandwich. “Wow, well. I suppose that was coming.”

Brienne reeled back, surprised at her own words. It was if they came from some other too big mouth somewhere residing on the pier with them. “I am sorry….I mean, I didn’t mean..”

Jaime picked his pole back up and sighed. “Yes, you did. And I suppose it’s something you should know.”

“I don’t need to know...honestly I don’t even know why I asked.”

Jaime folded his legs and glanced at his wooden reminder. “I was in the war.” He said as that was enough of an explanation, and Brienne thought that was all she would hear of it, but Jaime spoke again.

“I was in the War, and we were in the last days of ending the Dothraki occupation.” he continued to stare out at the lake as he spoke. “We were coming into Mereen, the center of the city was annihilated. Dothraki were hiding everywhere; there were few actual Mereenese left alive. But, we didn’t know that yet.”

Brienne had picked up her pole for want of something to do with her hands. The tension in Jaime’s voice made her pay attention, even if she was hesitant to hear the words.

“We had to go building by building to find anyone left alive that we could free. We got to this one little run down stone shack. It was probably a store or a clinic before the Dothraki got ideas of dominating the Free Cities. There was a group of Mereenese children, huddled in the corner of that stinkhole. I decided i was going to be the one to bring Liberation, Freedom and Democracy to them, personally.”

“You wanted to be a hero.” Brienne said.

“I was arrogant, much to sure of my own abilities. I told my men to go on to the next building, I was going to do this one. It was outside of regulations for em to enter that hovel alone. But, I was arrogant.”

“What I didn't know was the lengths the Dothraki would go to to bag a Westrosi Officer to mutilate.” He reached into the hamper and found a Coke. “They took me through the cellar into tunnels that were dug throughout the centre of the city.” He tipped the bottle to Brienne in a mock salute. “Yet another thing we didn't know.”

She shuddered under his scrutiny. A tug on the line told her she had a bite. Mindlessly, as one would something they had done all of their lives, she drew the line toward her, angling gently but firmly. 

“You got something?” he asked helping her to stand. 

Brienne nodded and held on as she pulled on her line. Ten minutes later a fat grouper dangled from the ring of fish hooks nearby. “That is how you catch a fish.” Brienne said with pride. 

They sat again, the sun had climbed over the treetops and now shone on the lake. When Jaime’s line tugged, Brienne showed him how gentle pulling would elicit the chase for the fish. 

After reeling in Jaime’s catch and placing the Trout next to the Grouper Brienne had caught, they re-baited their hooks and sat down, basking in the sunlight. 

Brienne didn't ask him to finish his story, choosing to fill in the blanks herself. Jaime seemed to perk up at catching his first fish, smiling like a kid with a new bike. He sat closer to her now, both occasionally dipping into the hamper for grapes, cherries and Oreo cookies. 

They talked. She surprised herself with how much she told him, and he listened to her stories, laughed at the right points and teased her mercilessly about never cooking for him when she told the story of how she had accidently cooked a rag into a cake she baked for her father. 

By noon, they had ten fish between them; Jaime had caught 6 more while Brienne waited patiently for her third. He preened every time his line caught and she huffed at his dance of victory as he hung the fish with the others. “Beginners’ Luck.” She accused after his seventh.

“Oh, don’t get jealous, Wench. I can’t help it if even the fish are attracted to my pretty face.” 

Brienne frowned at the grinning man before signing. She dropped her pole onto the pier and stood. “Don't be an insufferable ass “ 

Jaime grinned up toward the standing woman. “Anything you can do I can do better.” 

Brienne huffed and kicked at his arm with her long foot. Turning around, she found what she had hoped for about a hundred feet from the small pier. Brienne grabbed the bait bucket and marched toward the marshy embankment.

“Where you going, Wench? Dom’t run off mad.” He stood and began to follow her retreating form.

Brienne marched along to the end of the pier. Ignoring the man at her heels, she sat and took off her shoes. “We going swimming?” He asked, mimicking her movements as he slipped off his own loafers and rolled up the legs of his khakis. It took him longer to accomplish with one hand.. 

Brienne shook her head in return, grabbed the bait again and leapt from the pier. “Noodling.” She announced.

Jaime followed her into the reedy marshy bank of the lake. Brienne had always loved the feel of the cool mud between her toes, but she imagined her companion was none too familiar with mud. Jaime surprised her as he continued on through the muck with grace. “What is noodling?“ He asked, his feet and ankles deep in the boggy bank. 

Brienne waded out into the shallow muck, the water well near her knees. She leaned over and waiting, signaling her companion to keep silent. The hole was there, a small fissure in front of her. She dropped to a squat and reached her long arm into the divide. Brienne rose quickly holding the large catfish as it fought against her hold.

“This is noodling.” She offered to the man staring dumbly from the shallow bank. Brienne waded back to him and dangled the fish in his face. 

Jaime smiled, he reached for the fish as it continued to gasp for air. “That is barbaric” he said with wonder. “And oddly arousing.”

Brienne frowned, but placed the fish onto the grassy patch along the lake. “Wanna try?” She asked.

VvVvVvVv

He had followed her instructions to the letter; her proximity as he attempted to grab the fish by its whiskers. Jaime frowned as she caught one after another and he, still to bag one. “Alright, Wench,” he admitted as they looked over their final tally. “That island of yours must be a riot for night life.”

Brienne loaded the fish into the heavy cooler and sat next to it. They had walked back to the car in the now waning daylight. Her skin was red from the sun, but her freckled had browned into a shade of gold that would rival his house colors. “What do we do with all of this, anyway?”

“Clean them, eat them. My father and I would clean them in the kitchen and freeze the ones we didn’t fry.” 

Jaime looked at the brown cooler, he had borrowed it from the base on recommendation from PFC Peck, who apparently knew more about fishing than Jaime was willing to listen to. “I don’t think my good sister would appreciate dead fish littering her kitchen.”

Brienne nodded. “It would be wrong to let all of this go to waste.” She sighed.

Jaime grinned. “ I have an idea.”

An hour later they were in the mess hall as Brienne showed him how to clean, gut and filet. The other soldiers were enjoying their dinner as they kept to a small corner usually held for the Sergeant in charge if the mess. He'd noted the open stares from the men in the hall and had returned them with warning glares that promised permanent KP and latrine duties if they so much as hinted at the young woman’s looks.

Jaime suggested they leave the bulk of the fish at the base, but at 5 in the evening, Jaime suggested they bring two of the cleaned trout back for dinner.

“I have a train to catch at nine.” Brienne recalled suddenly as they made their way to Jaime’s car.

“Stop panicking Wench, I’ll get you to your train on time.”

Brienne scuffed as she slid into the passenger’s seat. “I can get myself to the train just fine Mr. Lannister, and my name is Brienne, not--”

“I know what your name is, Wench, I've spent every day this week with you, haven't I?”

“Then why do you insist on calling me outside of my given name.” 

Jaime shrugged.

Brienne looked at her watch. “I am going to miss my train. And term starts tomorrow.”

Jaime started the car and grinned. “Then, I will drive you back to Winterfell.

VvVvVvV

The house was lit up against the faded late summer sky. Jaime parked in front of the white picket fence gate and Brienne eased out of her seat. “Thanks for teaching me how to fish,” he said with a lazy gait.

Brienne smiled back “Too bad you couldn't’ get the hang of noodling so easily.” 

“Next time.” He nodded, pulling the bag with the trout out of the back seat.

Brienne shook her head, certain there would never be a next time.”Thanks for everything this week, Mr. Lannister.” 

He stopped her at the gate. “I wish you would, just once, call me Jaime.”

Brienne shook her head. “You’re my elder.”

Jaime sighed, “I can't believe I am going to miss such a stubborn, pig headed, wench.” 

Jaime stormed toward the front door, it opened with his hand still poised on the knob. Tyrion Lannister stood like an accusatory Matron with an errant teen. “Where have you been?”

Before Brienne could answer, Jaime held up the fish and grinned. “We brought dinner.”

Petyr Baelish and his future bride were seated at the dining table, Sansa stood red faced and angry with her arms folded. “We didn't know where you were.” She said to Brienne.

“She was with me.” Jaime answered. “Safe as houses.”

Tyrion sighed from his brother’s elbow. “Well we knew she was with you, but you could have let us know where you were going.”

“I left a note.” Brienne insisted.

“Mr. Lannister, “. Catelyn said. “I entrusted her safety to you, and you took her without anyone's knowledge or blessing with no indication where the two of you would be.”

“I left a note.” Brienne tried again. “On the dresser in the guest room.”

“She’s completely safe with me. We went fishing, nothing to grouse about.” Jaime said.

“Jaime, no one is in doubt if your intentions toward Brienne.” Tyrion huffed.

“I am,” Sansa said with a hand raised. “Concerned.” Two more hands raised as Petyr and Catelyn concurred. 

“Oh come on!” Jaime threw his hands in front of him. “ I'm not the Big Bad Wolf. I took the girl fishing and then we went to the base to clean the fish.”

“Mr Lannister, you must understand our concerns regarding your actions with Miss Tarth.” Petyr smiled.

Jaime whipped around to face the older man. “I'm sorry, and you are?”

Catelyn rose from her seat. “You know perfectly well who he is, Mr. Lannister. I am certain you understand the age difference between you and Brienne. You understand she is a minor.”

Jaime blanched. “I understand that you are casting a young girl aside who has no one else. I understand that your family agreed to guide her, love her and ensure that she has emotional stability, and the first chance you get, you send her off.”

Catelyn Stark stood taller than her five foot five frame and faced the blonde man. “Your family seems to enjoy chasing after young girls, tell me, is there a genetic disposition to it? I have heard tell your sister has a similar predilection.”

“Jaime.” Tyrion spoke between them. “I would think we should have a family meeting, you and I. Let's allow Brienne to pack and get ready for her train.”

Jaime nodded. “All right little brother. It's your house.” He followed his brother to the office under the stairs. “Brienne, I'll drive you to the station, wait for me.”

“She's already missed her train, thanks to you.” Petyr Baelish accused.

Jaime turned to the man’s voice. “Then I'll drive her to Winterfell.”

Tyrion pulled his brother into his office and slammed the door.

VvVvVvV

Catelyn’s glare followed her halfway up the stairs. Brienne felt her blue eyes boring into her back. “Brienne, what were you thinking?” She asked.

Brienne stopped hallway up the stairs. “Miss Catelyn, there was no IMpropriety intended. Mr. Lannister and I really did go fishing.”

Catelyn moved to the bottom of the stairs. “Of course you did, dear. But do you understand our concern?” 

Brienne faced the woman who was as close to a mother as she had had most of her life. “I understand that you were the one who asked him to help me with entering college. I understand that I have barely seen you since we arrived in King’s Landing. I understand that you are marrying a man who has questionable morals. I understand that I am to return to Winterfell alone. What I don't understand is…” Brienne glanced at Petyr and Sansa. “Well, this isn’t the time nor place to speak.” She turned and fled up the stairs followed by footfalls that were softer. 

“Brienne,” Sansa spoke, closing the door behind her. Brienne grabbed the piece of notebook paper from the top of her dresser and handed it to Sansa.

“I told you, I left a note.”

Sansa merely glanced at the note before sitting on one of the beds and tossing it beside her. “Brienne, please don't be angry with me. I have every good reason to look after your safety in this regard.”

Brienne turned on her foster sister then. “As you have pointed out, Sansa, we are the same age.”

Sansa nodded, placed her hands on her middle “ which is why I am looking out for you. I don't want you to turn up as I did.”

She laughed then, “ I seriously doubt that Jaime Lannister has any ideas of me other than tormenting with his sharp tongue.”

Sansa studied her with an odd look. “You would be surprised what men consider. I would imagine there are other things that he wishes to do with his tongue.”

“Sansa!” Brienne said, louder than she intended. “That is simply untrue.” Brienne moved around the room, loading her remaining items into her suitcase. “And anyway, I would imagine given your circumstance, any man would be as lustful as that husband of yours.”

“Don’t speak of him like that/” Sansa bit back sharply. Her face softened as she leaned back against the pillows on the made bed. “There are things you don;t know, Brienne. Things that would make you hesitant to continue any form of friendship with that man. The Lannisters are not worthy of you.”

Brienne closed her suitcase and hauled it off the other twin bed. “You’re a Lannister now, Sansa.” 

Sansa nodded, “I am. But there was a time I would have considered being a Lannister in a different way.”

Brienne’s confusion grew with every cryptic phrase her foster sister uttered. “What don't I know?” she asked. 

“You’ve not met the rest of them.” Sansa nearly whispered. “Tyrion is the most honorable of them all. The rest are…” Sansa shook her head. “Tyrion’s nephew, I went to school with him.”

No, Brienne thought. How could she have missed it. Everything made sense, now. Catelyn had been right the entire time. “He’s the one who--”

“He was so kind in the beginning, so wonderful. A knight from the stories.” Sansa admitted. “Then, he wasn’t”

Brienne sat next to the red haired woman, “Sansa, why didn't you tell anyone?” 

Sansa straightened her spine, strength and steel all at once. “I did tell someone, I told my uncle. Begged him not to call my mother. I thought, if there was anyone who could help me...be rid of it, it was one person who I knew had a history of ill repute.”

“You asked Baelish for help?” Brienne blanched. 

“I was desperate, Brienne. I didn't want to keep it. I thought if I could contact the one person who would know how to go about ending a pregnancy, it would be him.”

Brienne took her hand. “What happened?”

Sansa offered a harsh smile, one coated in broken glass. “He sold me out. I made the mistake of telling him who the father was. Apparently that information was too good for him not to capitalize from it. He went to Tywin Lannister after promising me he would keep my faiths.” Sansa sniffed but covered it quickly. “Instead of an abortion, i was ushered into an audience with Satan himself.”

Brienne nodded. “A deal was struck, and Baelish further endeared himself to the Lannisters.”

Sansa smiled again, softer this time. “Now you see why you cannot trust any of them. Except maybe Tyrion, though he is still a Lannister.”

“And so are you, Sansa.” Brienne nodded, “even though you were placed into a situation--”

“I placed myself, Brienne. Joffrey didn't take liberties, I offered them.” She stared at Brienne, daring her to pass judgment, but Brienne could find no sentence to pass. “I must ask you to keep this between us; I ask for your silence because that was part of the deal.”

“Deal?” Brienne asked.

But Sansa just patted Brienne’s hand and smiled. “I need you to promise not to share with anyone what I have told you. There are only four people beside myself who know. I have to keep this from Mother.”

“But why, Sansa? Shouldn’t she know?”

“Are you blind, Brienne? She is engaged to Petyr Baelish, and he knows and has not told her. Whether it is for his own gain or fear of Tywin Lannister, who knows.“

“My money is on for his own gain.” Brienne huffed.

“You haven’t met Tywin Lannister.” Sansa nodded. “But you most likely have the right of it. So, I can count on you to keep my counsel?”

Brienne nodded and hugged her foster sister suddenly, surprised at her own sudden affection, Brienne moved away quickly but Sansa held firm. “You need to know,” Sansa said. “That no matter what happens, your home is here. If you wish to stay instead of going back North, that is your decision.”

Brienne shook her head. “I must finish high school, and I am looking forward to attending college.” 

“Sansa pulled her closer into her grasp. “Your home is here, now Brienne. Both Tyrion and I have agreed. “ Sansa waved her arm around. “THis is your room now, you can finish it as you like. You can stay here for university, or stay in the dorms.”

Brienne felt hot tears rise suddenly, moved by the offer. “Thanks you, Sansa. This means more to me than you know.”

Sansa finally released her. “You are part of my family. Remember that.”

“I will.” Brienne nodded.

Sansa seemed to draw herself together and spoke again. “I’ll not ask you to keep away from Jaime Lannister. I know friends are hard to come by. But, will you at least recall what I have been through? That if it comes to anything that I have told you, please remember that the Lannisters cannot be trusted, not truly.”

VvVvVvV

“What are you doing?” Tyrion asked as they stood in the wood covered office. Jaime considered his brother for a moment before shrugging. 

“I have no idea what you mean.” Jaime said.

Tyrion smacked the older man’s thigh and cast an angry glare at the insufferable man next to him. “She’s a child.”

“So’s your wife.” Jaime fired back.

Tyrion sat on the plaid couch and sighed. “Jaime, that girl is on the brink of losing what little family she has had for 6 years. She’s already lost everyone else she loved. Why are you so interested in her?”

Jaime fell into the chair across from his brother. “Why do you care what I do?” he asked. “What’s it to you?”

Tyrion frowned, it was never a good sign when Jaime answered questions with more questions. “Sansa loves her, she doesn't want to see her hurt.”

“Neither do I.”

Tyrion poured himself a drink from the table next to him. “Leave her alone, Jaime. Let her be.”

Jaime glared at him. “Like Catelyn has? Are you suggesting that i just lump her off to fend for herself?”

“Let us fend for her.” Tyrion answered.

“And what happens after Sansa has the baby? You’ll still have time, the both of you to offer emotional support for her? She’s not a stray cat, Tyrion. While she can, eventually, fend for herself she should have some emotional support. As you said, she is still a child.”

“And she is not a charity in need of your brand of rescue.” Tyrion accused. “You are my brother, and I love you, but I will not watch you destroy a young girl for your own amusement.”

“Have you ever known me to ruin a maiden? Really, Tyrion, enough theatrics.”

He’s further gone than even he realizes, Tyrion thought to himself. He decided to show his hand and prayed it was enough. “Father knows.”

Jaime leaned forward, his hands on his knees. “Knows what?” 

“That you have been keeping time with the girl.”

“Keeping time?” Jaime asked with a laugh. “I’ve been mentoring her. She needs someone.”

Tyrion finished his drink and poured another. “As I have said, Sansa and I will look after her. You need not concern yourself--”

Jaime stood then, “I will concern myself with what i feel is important. And i will deal with Father on my own.”

“Jaime,” Tyrion tried. “Don’t make this into a personal cause.” Jaime mock saluted his brother as he exited the office. Tyrion sighed into the dregs of his second glass of wine but stood to follow him out. He had tried, but he had also underestimated his brother’s feelings for the girl. He hoped her return to Winterfell would quell Jaime’s odd behavior.

He hoped. 

VvVvVvV

The dining table sat empty as he pushed into the great room. Looking around he realized that both Petyr and Catelyn had taken their leave. Jaime went to the stairs and shouted. Brienne, time to go. It’s a long ride to Winterfell.”

Tyrion sighed, “she can stay here tonight and take the train tomorrow.”

Jaime shook his head. “She can;t miss her first day of school. Education is important.” He stared at his younger brother and frowned. “Is this how you intend to look after her welfare?”

“Jaime,” Tyrion groaned. Footsteps on the staircase ended any further argument from Tyrion. Brienne made her way down with her suitcase in hand, Sansa close at her heels. 

“Ready, Wench?” he asked.

“You don't have to go tonight, Brienne. You could stay another day.” Sansa said. 

Brienne looked around the room, Jaime could almost hear her thoughts about choices and what would be the right thing to do. Jaime got the impression that choices were not left to her before. She clutched her small suitcase to her chest and stood at the bottom of the stairs.

Jaime held out his hand to accept the suitcase, it was enough to help Brienne make a decision. “You have both been so kind, but I need to get back. I have school in the morning.”

Tyrion and Sansa shared a look but said nothing further in argument. Jaime smiled at his little brother and held the door open for the tall girl. 

“Don't wait up.” Jaime said as he closed the door behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings! Sorry this took so long to get out, the next will be sooner. Scouts honor!
> 
> *Noodling is allowed in most states in the US. It takes a lot of practice to do and can be dangerous if tried without proper practice.
> 
> *Fish caught were a combo of river and lake varieties. Its my tale so i just threw in my faves.


	10. You'll Never Walk Alone

He had become real acquainted with Kingsroad from the Capitol to Wintertown. The first trip North with the tall girl was quiet, she slept me he drove. Long acquainted with long stretches without sleep, Jaime had no trouble driving through the darkness. They made it to Winterfell just as the sun crested over the distant mountains.

In the four months of her final term of High school. Jaime had found ten reasons to drive up North. Now, the final trip would involve the return trip to King's Landing with Brienne and everything she owned.

She had been surprised when he’d showed up that first weekend, he was even surprised himself but someone had to return her shirt. She may have need of it.

“You really don't have to come. it's not a big deal.”

He smiled at her across the phone lines and distance. “You didn't tell Sansa and Tyrion it wasn't a big deal.” He chided.

“They have bigger fish to fry.” Brienne responded with all the patience if a nanny with small charges. “And Catelyn has a wedding to prepare for, so no big deal.

He sighed, “Graduation is a big deal, Wench. Someone should be there for prosterity, prove you are actually graduated.”

So, he had come to her graduation ceremony, had sat in the back of the small auditorium as the twenty students walked across the stage. Brienne had ignored his whistles and shouts as she made her graceless trek across the platform. He smiled and shouted as she accepted her certificate and had quite possibly been the loudest and most aggressive attendee.

He waited for her outside of the large room as she removed her cap and gown and frowned at him. 

“Why are you frowning like that?” He asked as he helped her out of her gown.

“I am not frowning.” Brienne insisted. 

“You always frown like that when you want to say something to me and don't know how to get it out. So spill it. What did I do this time?” They continued into his Oldsmobile, Jaime was certain she wouldn't answer him, until she did.

“Why did you come here so much?” She blurted as she stood in front of the passenger door. He had angled to open it for her, as a gentleman should, but she blocked his arm.

“ I don't see anyone else coming out here for you,”. Jaime looked around dramatically as if a family would jump out to greet her at any minute.

The frown downgraded into a scowl and she pursed her thick wide lips. “ I am not a charity case.” 

Jaime laughed against the side of the car. “Funny, someone else said the same thing to me a few months ago.” Brienne shoulders hunched and she straightened her back. Jaime let his laughter slide into a grin and nodded his head. “Settle down, Wemch, you're anything but a charity cAse.”

“You drove here ten times a,ready in the last four months. Once to return a shirt I left at Sansa’s”

Jaime nodded, he had a hell of a time getting that shirt out if his good sister’s laundry. “I thought you might need it. For school.”

Brienne frowned. “And the other times?” 

Jaime shrugged. “Thought you might miss my mug.” He turned to look at the tall girl who had spent her name day eating burgers in his car. “Did you miss my mug, Brienne?”

Brienne shook her head. “ Dimt they miss you? The army I mean.” 

“Colonel Selmy does miss me, every chance he gets. Given half a chance he would see the back end of me for one last time. But, my last name keeps me in even though I am only good for signing orders, badly, and giving commands to other soldiers.”

“You came a long way to my graduation.” 

And your name day, he thought to himself. “I didn't see anyone else making the trip.” He said to her moving to the drivers side. “Besides, Sansa wants you Jaime and I obliged. You should see her now, she's as big as a house.”

Brienne cast a glare that Jaime could not decipher, but she fell into the passenger's seat, scowling. Jaime slid into his seat and started the car. He had already loaded her things into the trunk and the back seat. “You'll be starting college in a few weeks, no one wanted you up here by yourself until then.”

“Catelyn said--”

“--that you could stay as long as you liked. Yes I know. But, no one who cares about you in King’s Landing thought it was a good idea for you to spend winter holidays alone. And Sansa was quite insistent about the whole thing.”

Brienne seemed to sink into her seat. “And Miss Catelyn?” 

Jaime signed, of course she would ask about the matron. Catelyn had been as close to a mother as the girl had probably ever had. The problem was, Catelyn was more concerned with Petyr Baelish and her own ailing children to worry over a foundling she had not passed through her own thighs. Just ask Jon Snow. “I am sure you will see your Catelyn now that you have moved to King's Landing.” It wasn't a sweet lie, but it glossed over the truth as well as he could, he didn't want to lie to Brienne, ever.

“When is the wedding?” Brienne asked, and it surprised Jaime that she didn't know. He had assumed that at the very least Catelyn would have phoned her. “The wedding was last month.” He sighed.

He watched the tall girl slump further into her seat, a sigh blew from her too thick lips and crooked nose. “I didn't know.” She said finally.

“I figured as much. If it makes you feel better, Sansa didn't attend, neither did Arya.”

“It doesn't make me feel any better Mr. Lannister.” She fired back. “At least they were invited. I spoke to Arya last week long distance. Why wouldn't she tell me?”

Jaime felt for her, he really did. He knew why she wasn't told; that Petyr had pushed for a wedding date as soon as possible and that their marriage was effectively alienating Catelyn from her daughters. He could have explained it all to her, but it was a long drive back to the Capitol and Brienne already looked ready to cry. “Catelyn wanted to get married as soon as possible. Sansa and Arya didn't think there had been enough time between that wedding and Ned Stark’s funeral.” He sighed, hating the compulsion to never lie to her. “Sansa says Arya won’t talk about it, at all.”

Brienne sat silent as they pointed down the Kingsroad. The silence reminded Jaime of their first long ride together; but she had slept as the. Ike's passed.

By White Harbor, the blonde woman had retreated into her own thoughts. By the time they made it to Moat Cailin, Jaime was certain the silence would kill him. 

VvVvVvV

It wasn't sadness that left her silent. She would have been fine with missing the wedding even if she had been extended an invitation. Petyr Baelish left her skin prickly and crawling like a horde of cockroaches had been set loose across it. 

Jaime seemed willing to let her be, but he was the reason for her quiet. The first time he had shown up at Winterfell just a week after her return. He had shown up unannounced each of the ten times, but had always left her missing him when he left.

Jaime always stayed in a motel outside of Winter Town. He drove her around, and sometimes she drove him. Once, they even made the five hour trip to The Wall, he'd said he had never seen it before, neither had she but they'd packed for a weekend and stayed for all the tourist attractions, including a ride in the old wooden elevator and a tour through ten of the keeps.

Jaime had kept her from the darkness of the approaching winter, she'd never noticed how long the nights could be when the house was full. Empty, Wimterfell held a darkness she had never known. Old Nan fussed over her every day after school, but Old Nan had her own family to return to over the weekends. Jaime hadn't come every weekend, but those he did visit fir only served to make those without him bleaker.

Brienne began to wonder when the beautiful and frustrating man had become ingrained into her existence. When did he become a part of her life that she looked forward to?

She watched the scenery fly by with her head against the window. It wasn't a missed wedding invitation that left her silent, it was the man next to her. She did not know what to say to him. He was quieter than usual and it made her angry to miss the sound of his constant natter.

Even the weekends he came and they did little else but fishing, he still talked. She knew more about his soldiers, his family and even his childhood than perhaps anyone else.

And, perhaps that was the problem.

They stopped at Harrenhall for dinner, fuel and a leg stretch. Jaime informed her it was the halfway mark to the journey. “Are you in a hurry to get to King’s Landing?” He asked as h paid the check.

Brienne shrugged, slid out of the deep red booth and stood. “Shouldn't you be?”

Jaime shook his head and grinned. “I've heard that the Trident has some of the best fishing in the seven kingdoms.” 

“You don't say?” Brienne returned as they walked through the parking lot. Brienne knew he was working up to something. To be fair, Jaime was always working up to something.

“I brought our poles, some tackle. I even bought a few new river flyers and lures. There's a bait shop up the road…”

“And you thought we could try out your new gear today?”

“Well, I hadn't thought of that, but now that you mention it.” 

VvVvVv

“This is mostly your fault.” Brienne's words offered partial blame, but her eyes were all accusations and recriminations. The sun was started to bank along the jagged coastline and Jaime could see she was starting to shiver. “Not my fault the Riverlands couldn't produce a boat big enough for the both of us.”

Her scowl had returned as they sat on the banks of the Trident. It was a long walk back to the car, and Jaime was glad for having brought all the gear out with them. But, someone would still have to raise the tent.

They were both drenched to the bone and fortunately both excellent swi,,era. The boat and the fishing gear were lost, but they made it back to the shire alive. They'd had to walk to the camp they'd started and the cool early evening air was doing its best to freeze the pair.

Jaime sighed, stood from the log he was seating in and began to assemble the tent. “What are you doing?” The Wench asked him from her spot on the ground.

It was his turn to frown, she always did ask obvious questions. “I'm pitching the tent.” He groused.

“Why? We can just walk back to the car and dry as we go.” 

Jaime sighed, stupid stubborn, wench. “It's going to get colder, Brienne. We at least need to warm up. And, it's getting dark. Would you like to fumble around and freeze, or we can warm up and find the car at first light.”

Her mug was even uglier when she frowned, but he could see that she had the right if it. There was no need to court hypothermia. She stood suddenly and marched off toward the tree line. Attagirl, Jaime thought as he used his foot to drive the stakes into the ground. 

He'd learned to do so much with only one hand that it was second nature to him now. A small modicum of pride breezed through the soldier at the sense memory if so many failed attempts leading to this one conquering moment.

By the time Brienne returned with an armload of firewood, Jaime had the tent laid and the army issue sleeping bags arranged. 

Brienne started the fire and Jaime dragged the other pack out of the tent. He handed her an MRE and smiled. “Be prepared, Wench. That's my motto. Be prepared.”

She accepted the packaged ration bag and tore it open. “What is this?” She asked as she shoved the tin toward his face.”

“Probably best not to ask. It's completely safe, these are fresh. Don’t tell me your father never added rations to your fishing trips?”

“Well, my father had more sense than to drop the oars and roll over the side to try to get them again.” 

Jaime pulled open his own tin and fished the fork out of the bag. “See if I ever take you fishing again, Wench.” He tapped his fork in her unopened tin. “It's edible, better than C-rations. Better than the stuff we had in the War.” For proof, he stabbed a large piece of what may have been ham and beans before the army got hold of it. He chewed and took another bite.

“My father brought me home C-rations, once.” She said, pulling open her tin. “We went camping, well that's what he called it. I think he wanted to teach me survival skills out in the wilds of Tarth.” She frowned and took a bite of her own mystery dinner. “Fresh river trout would have been better.”

“Spoken like a true friend of Catelyn Stark.” Jaime said around another mouthful of food. Her quizzical glare forced a smile from him. “You know Catelyn is a Tully by birth?”

Brienne nodded yes and Jaime went on. “The Tullys were once the leaders of the Riverlands. Their house still stands here.”

“River Run, I know that. Edmure still lives there. Miss Catelyn’s only brother.”

Jaime nodded again. “Right, good girl.” He patted the top of her head like an apt pupil. “Their house sibilant has always been the red and blue field with a trout.”

Brienne blushed and Jaime wondered if she had known any of that that. “Of course it is.”

They finished their meal next to the fire, silent but comfortable. Jaime stood and put the remains of his tins into the bag they had brought. Brienne fished around hers and found three cookies. Jaime smiled as she considered the . “We call those Gorilla cookies. They're really good, but I wouldn't recommend eating them unless you want to be constipated for a month.”

Brienne gasped at the offending items. “Why would anyone want that?” She pulled a sour face and dropped them into the makeshift receptacle the Jaime held in front of her.

“When you are out in the field, or wilds, or the Dothraki Sea, the last thing you want is to give away your position with a steaming pile of shit.”

Jaime found a tree tall enough and called Brienne over. “I need you to climb up there.” He said as if ordering one of his Privates.

Brienne stood at the bottom of the tree and considered his command. “Why?” She asked finally.

“You don't have to, we can take our chances with the bears.” He smiled at her again in the fading light. “I can't do it,” He allowed himself a long consideration of her tall form. “You could probably just reach an arm up and hit the top of the tree.”

“I'm not that much taller than you are Mr. Lannister. Don't be an ass unnecessarily.”

“When is it not necessary to be an ass.” He grinned. “Up you get.”

Brienne nodded, she took the bag from him and climbed the tree.

They say in front of the fire again, slowing drying out and warming up. Jaime looked at his watch and announced they should turn in. Brienne did not move. “It's only one tent.” She mumbled.

“We've camped before, it's not a big deal.” He shrugged for emphasis.

But the stubborn girl wouldn't budge. “We always used two tents.” 

Jaime sighed. “Fine. I am going to bed down in here. You want to take your chances with nature and the fine woodland creatures that hunt nocturnal,y, be my guest. But, try not to scream too loudly when The coyotes come sniffing, I do need my beauty rest.” Jaime parted the flaps of the two man tent and entered with a flourish.

He was well on his side of the tent encased in his own sleeping bag she. The girl finally entered. It was too dark to tell since they had put out the campfire, but Jaime could feel her scowl from a mile away.

She clomped to the opposite side of the tent and rummaged into her own sleeping bag. “Don't worry, Wench, I have no intention of ravishing you in any way.”

“As if you could.” She snorted.

Jaime chuckled, rolled onto his side and went to sleep.

VvVvVvV

At first, she thought she was in Winterfell. Robb, Theon and Jon were noisy when they came home late or were forced to wake early for school. She nearly hollered at them to shut up and keep their noise down before they woke the whole house.

When she opened her eyes, she recalled where she was. The snuffling and clawing sounds were outside the tent, right next to her. She could barely ,are put a large form ,ovine along the thin canvas shell between her and the outside. Her heart sped up but she managed to remain still.

“Don’t move.” Jaime whispered into her ear. He didn't have to tell her not to move, Brienne was frozen in her spot. Even the fact that Jaime was now pressed against her, so close that his quick breaths tickled her neck and ear.

“What is that?” She whispered.

Jaimes arm came around her, whether to comfort her or himself she couldn't be sure. The snuffling moved around the tent, a pawing sound accompanied the loud snorts. “My guess is it's a bear.” He said nonchalantly.

Brienne had never seen a bear, not even in the Winter Town Zoo. “A bear?” She asked a little louder than she meant.

Jaime shushed her, the sound sending a ruffle of something through her that caused shivers. “Will he go away?” She whispered again.

She felt the man behind her shrug, he dragged himself into a sitting position. “I’ll need to chase him off.”

“With one hand?” Brienne whispered harshly. She flared the sleeping bag off of herself and stood. She parted the tent flaps silently without stopping to put in her boots. She felt Jaime’s hand in her shoulder tug her back inside. She shrugged off his hand without making a sound and stepped out into the cool night.

The bear was on the far side of the tent now, he wasn't as large as she had feared. Without knowing what else to do she angled around the side of the tent and shuffled to the near corner. The bear had heard her and raised onto its hind legs. A rock flew past its shaggy head. The bear dropped angrily, making to charge her. Just then, she heard another rock whip past the beast and land off past its shoulder. 

As the bear turned to follow the sound of another rock, Brienne picked up her own handful, of rocks and began to lay an elegant cover fire that would have rivaled any soldier with a weapon.

As she continued to hurl stones away from the camp, the bear spun in circles from both sets of projectiles. When she dipped for a third handful, the bear charged away from the camp, seemingly annoyed with his possibly easy ,earl being disrupted.

She dropped to her knees along the side of the tent when it was clear the animal wasn't returning. Jaime found her clutching her knees with her head back against the canvas. “Well,” He said, sagging alongside her with a huff. “Looks like I rescued the maiden fair from the bear.”

She laughed quietly for want of any other reaction she could muster. “You,” she pointed at the beautiful man beside her, even bedraggled and sloppy from being awakened in the middle of the night, his beauty shown in the moonlight like a beacon. “Are definitely the Maiden Fair.” She laughed. “And it was I that rescued you.”

Jaime tipped his head into her shoulder. “Not bad for a one handed man, eh?” He asked. “And let's just say we rescued each other.”

Brienne smiled. “Deal.” As the words fell from her lips she felt a brush of his against her mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry this took so long but i am on vacation. Literally posting this from Dubrovnik, wasn't going to do a chapter here but saw the city gates where Jaime and Brienne returned to King's Landing and i got inspired. This was written on the beach on my ipad, so any mistakes are mine and the whiskey's fault.
> 
> Can't guarantee when i will post again, maybe a week? thanks to all who are reading, reviewing, loving and giving me shouts. Love y'all.


	11. A Kiss To Build A Dream On

It was, admittedly, an awkward and long four hours to King's Landing. She had shoved him after his failed idiocy. Jaime could not even understand what made him kiss her. Maybe it was the adrenaline if having chased off and thus survived an actual bear. Maybe it was the moonlight, or the stars in the shy.

Or, maybe he was no better than his little brother, chasing after women too young.

He shrugged to himself as he pointed his car along the Kingsroad. Rain had begun to fall once they passed the Reach Turnpike. Jaime continued to steal glances at the young woman; she sat in her seat, hunched and and quiet and sullen. Jaime actually felt bad, it had probably been her first kiss and he had ruined for her. For two seconds she had responded, he'd returned with ardent fervor, even began probing with his tongue. then as if a switch had been thrown, she had shoved him away, stood and stormed off to the log where the campfire had once been.

She'd refused to return to the tent, had shook her head with folded arms and insisted in staying outside. Jaime had sighed and brought out both sleeping bags. He'd offered to stay outside,that she could have the tent. 

Of course the stubborn, pig headed thing refused without a single word. She merely shook her head, wrapped herself in the proffered sleeping bag, and stayed awake quietly the rest of the nit.

They broke camp as soon as first light and headed to the car. Jaime was at a loss to explain his behavior. An apology wasn't right; he felt h would kiss her again if given the chance. Jaime never felt sorry for kissing her. He did feel sorry for the change in their friendship. Her silence, her demeanor,, the banter and teasing was fine, replaced with four hours of silence that felt like a prison sentence. 

When they pulled into the driveway of Tyrion and Sansa’s, Brienne hurled herself out of the car and began dragging out her bags. Jaime grabbed for the larger bags and trudged to the now open front door. Sansa hung aside the door, her stomach now obviously round. Jaime planted a small kiss in his good sisters cheek and asked about her health. Sansa's face scrunched into a frown and she returned his question with another about distances, times of travel and long ways home.

Brienne bustled on past them, she Immediately made for the stairs and up to her new room. Jaime and Sansa watched her climb the stairs. “What did you do, Jaime?” The redhead asked.

He shrugged, certain Brienne would tell her everything's out his lecherous behaviors later over coffee and deciding it might be best if he were well and away for it, Jaime dropped the last bags and left. Sansa asked if he waged coffee. “No offense good sister,” he offered with one of his casual smirks, “ but your coffee is fair too dainty for me right now.” He waved to her and drove toward the base.

VvVvVvV

Once she was certain he had gone, Brienne chanced to open her door to retrieve the rest of her things. Sansa was just starting breakfast and Tyrion sat, bleary eyed, at the table with the Wall Street Journal tucked next to his plate. “Brienne, glad to see you made it to King’s Landing I besmirched.” He said as he opened his paper.

Sansa angled hers,Ed into the seat across from. Her husband. She had certainly expanded since Brienne had left for Winterfell four months ago. “Be nice, Tyrion.” Sansa cautioned but cast a knowing smile towards Brienne.

Tyrion put his paper down and took a dramatic look around the table. “ wait a minute.” He said. “We seem to be missing something.”

“Tyrion,” Sansa said again. She pushed the plate of bacon at her husband, but Tyrion wasn't quite ready to let the matter go.

He held up a small hand at his wife's words. “No, don't tell me. It'll come to me.”

Brienne took a large bite of her own bacon. “ He's not here.”

Sansa nodded, but Tyrion studied her face. “isn't that...odd?” He asked her, the. Turned to his wife. “Isn't that odd?” Tyrion turned back to the tall woman across the table. “You're here, and when That happens, Jaime is here, but today he isn't. Why is that?”

Sansa pushed herself into standing and twisted toward the kitchen. Brienne wasn't sure how to explain anything that had happened in the Riverlands, but Sansa spoke over her shoulder. “I am certain he mentioned having some early morning drill he had to attend.” 

Tyrion waited until Sansa was well into the kitchen. “Is that it, then?” He asked 

Brienne shrugged under his glare, she finished her breakfast and made to stand. “Mr Lannister has a lot of responsibilities.” 

“Yet you never refer to him as Captain, so that’s not it.” Tyrion noted as the soft steps of his wife came through the hallway. “No, my brother has done something that even he believes to have crossed too many lines.”

Brienne bristled under his glare, but refused to say anything. What Jaime had done was between her and him; though she admitted it was more him than her. She hadn't considered much of what happened between them by the tent. She refused to speak to him the rest of the ride and he had become sullen and quiet. 

She just wished he hadn't mocked her.

Whatever feelings were in her about the blonde man who had become her friend had long been tamped down and recessed. Did she see home in her dreams? Yes. Jaime Lannister ran through her most ardent fantasies and starred in some that caused her to blush in her waking hours. He was beautiful and distracting and the most unattainable specimen she could have ever dreamed up herself. 

Brienne brought herself back to reality, Tyrion continued to stare at her as if a frog ready for dissection. “There isn't any reason for anything, Jaime just had to go.”

”But, that's not it, is it?” He asked her.” You don't have to tell me what my brother has done. I am sure I will unravel it eventually.” He ruffled his paper and finished the last of his bacon. Sansa called for him in the kitchen and Brienne was glad to be left alone again. The small man’s glare could disarm entire garrison’s.

University started term a week after winter holidays, Brienne hoped Jaime would at least stay away long enough for her to get her feet.

VvVvVvV

“Your brother has been oddly absent.” Sansa noted to her husband as they lie in bed.

“I have no idea what is going in there, but at least it would seem that my brother has figured out that chasing after the girl isn't the best thing for either of them right now.” It was Sunday before Winterfest. Tyrion had taken a week’s vacation for the holiday and now stood in his usual spot at the sink. Brienne had been in their home for little over a week and barely made more than a peep at meals.

And Jaime had not been by the entire time.

His wife had said something to him, he was certain of it. Her pretty face had crinkled into a scowl that she typically reserved for her mother’s second husband. “Did you even hear me? Or are you mulling over a new acquisition your father has you scheming?”

Tyrion offered her his best smile, the one most like his older brother’s. “Just thinking about you.” He tried.

She returned his platitude with a huff, but repeated her original and unheard comment. “I said, I think we shouldn't go to my mother's for Winterfest.” 

Tyrion tilted his large head. “Why ever not? All of your siblings will be there.”

Sansa shook her head. “No they will not. Arya and Robb refuse to set foot in that house. And, I don't think it'll be good for Brienne.”

Of course, he thought to himself. The two had grown as thick as oatmeal. “I see. But the other option is not entirely a better one.” They had declined returning to Casterly Rock for the holidays. Tywin had extended the typical stay for the week of Winterfest. They had, instead, used the excuse if Sansa's seventh month of pregnancy as a means to avoid the Lannisters bleak but opulent holiday experience.

She shrugged beside him in bed, pillows strategically placed to alive the heavier weight of her middle. “What if we did something here?”

He twisted to face her; she was the flame that he could not help but fly to. “Are you up for that?” 

“No,”. She sighed heavily, collapsing a bit into her cocoon. “But I think we could put something together without too much effort.” She scooted closer to him, they now nearly nose to nose. In the time since their marriage, Tyrion vacillated between missing Tysha and a creeping sense of something for the woman he now shared a bed with. He wanted her to love him and so he never touched her first, always waiting for the small touches that worked into a patchwork of ersatz intimacy. 

“We could have air thing brought in.” He offered.

“Maybe, “ she grew silent for a long pause. The grandfather clock chimed the hour of eleven from the hallway and a car rumbled Down. The road outside. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until he felt her hand slip into his. “I know this isn't something you wanted.” She said suddenly.

“Don't be silly, staying home for Winterfest was my first choice.”

Sansa shook her head at him. “No, I mean, this.” She corrected.

“Oh, well I suppose neither one of us chose this particular life, did we?”

“You could have said no.” Sansa answered, her hand still firmly in his.

He guffawed louder than he meant to, “I couldn't. But you could have married Lancel. I believe he would have made--”

“Do you know why I chose you instead?” She asked him.

Tyrion could only shake his head, intrigued and fearful of his she would answer.

“Your father didn't want me to marry you.” She said suddenly. “He didn't think it was a good idea. “

“You chose me out of spite.” He choked, surprised at the pull in his chest.

She raised onto her elbow, her hand squeezed his hand tighter. “ I know you love the sound of your own voice, but if you would please shut down that big egg if yours and listen a minute?”

He smiled and nodded.

“I did not marry you out of spite, Tyrion.” Sansa insisted “ When your father called me in for an audience, I was still thaa notified maive girl. I thought he was seeing me as a formality, that he would force Joffrey into doing right by me.” 

Tyrion nodded; those not familiar with the depths of woe that Tywin Lannister can inflict were often loathe to ever underestimate him again.

Sansa flexed her hand again and went on. “Your father is a...he's…”

“A monster?” Tyrion finished for her.

“That is a kind affectation.” She agreed. “He told me that Joffrey was already set to marry he could provide me with a suitable Lannister.”

“I'm so sorry, Sansa.” This time he squeezed her hands; once for courage then again for compassion. 

“He advised me of your cousin Lancel first. He said he was a good man. But, I didn't want him. I wanted my prince.”

“Joffrey.” Tyrion said. But Sansa shook her head.

“ I wanted the songs, Tyrion. The handsome prince who rides in on a white horse and saves the fair maiden. By the time I was in your father's office I knew what Joffrey was and I knew he wasn't what I wanted.” She nudged Closer into him, he could smell her, could feel her breaths across his face. “He wasn't the sings, Tyrion. Joffrey was the danger.”

“I'm so sorry that--”

Sansa let go of his hand and raised higher. “Don't. Don't make me into the sad maid. I made my choices and now I am living them. But this isn't about your nephew. I chose you because he said not to.”

It was his turn to sit up. Tyrion reached for her hand this time and marveled at her fervor in grasping his again. “ I don't understand.” 

She squeezed his hand then. “You are not your father. I didn't want anyone that would be endorsed by the Devil himself. Lancel would have been no better than Joffrey in the end.” She sighed then and Tyrion could feel a thickness settle into the room they shared. There was a truth being laid out; an inevitable release.

“I knew if your father was set to not have me marry you, then you would be as kind and compassionate and gentle as he was not.”

“You should not have been in that situation at all, Joffrey has been a little shit sense he crawled from between my sweet sister’s legs.”

Tyrion watched his wife's other hand ghost over the large mound of her womb. “I have grown a lot since then. I have learned that life is not a song; that heroes come in all sizes that people aren't always truthful and that kindness can come from the most unexpected places.” She turned her eyes to him then, a rakish smile hovering at the corners of her mouth. “Know what else I learned?” 

Too stunned from her words, Tyrion merely nodded dumbly. “I've learned that the best things in life really do come in small packages.” She leaned into him, her pouty lips grazing his, resting for a moment.

“Well,” Tyrion said after catching the breath she had stolen from him. “Someday I hope you learn that not all things are packaged quite so small.”

VvVvVvVv

His brother was giving him that look. It was the same one he gave when , as chuck down, Jaime had tried to convince his little brother that chocolate milk came only from brown cows, white milk from white cows. He almost had him until the little shit, always too smart for his own good, pointed out that there were no pink cows to account for strawberry milk. 

Jaime flexed his shortened arm under the smaller man’s scrutiny but still maintained his smug demeanor. If the Wench wasn't going to tell anyone about his misguided attempt at amorous attentions me the. Why should he?

“So, nothing?” Tyrion asked again from the chair across from him. Jaime had shown up at. 2 pm for Winterfest dinner, arms loaded with wine, beer and presents. No one had invited him, but he really didn't have anywhere else to go.

“I don't know what you mean?” He fired back at his younger brother, already weary from Brienne’s ignoring him. He'd decided to follow her lead, it was, after all, his fault. Yet, he could only play ignorant with her for so long, something about the tall girl with beautiful eyes had captured him.

Tyrion placed his short legs onto the ottoman in front of him and took another sip from the flask tucked between the sofa cushions. Jaime wondered if marriage had rendered his little brother a closet drinker. “You've been avoiding someone in this house. I doubt it's me or. Y wife and so the only assumption could be Brienne. In fact, you drive her from Winterfell and we have not seen you until today. So, I ask. What did you do.”

“Why do you need to know?” Jaime blistered only realizing his guilt was shown his demeanor. At Tyrion’s raised eye he sighed. “ it was a misunderstanding, nothing more.”

Tyrion nodded. “For the best. I am sure with the start if her university next week it would do no good for her to have grown man sniffing about her every move.”

“You make it sound so nefarious, like I'm some creepy, funny uncle,”

“Are you?” His brother asked.

Jaime threw himself back onto the cushion. He knew how his brother felt about the Wench, and the little man was willing to go along with any decision his young wife prevailed upon. Jaime wondered if his father knew about the leash the wolf had placed around the lion. “It's not like that.”

Tyrion waved his small hand around and smiled. “Of course it isn't. Why would it be?”

“Don't be an ass, Tyrion.”

“Don't lie to me, Jaime.” He said.

Jaime pulled himself to standing. “Isn't it almost dinner. I hear the caterers gearing up out there for something.” He had the door open before his brother could hide the flask. “Look at you, hiding your alcohol from your wife.” 

Tyrion offered him a glare from his seat, but stood and followed him out into the main hallway. Jaime searched the room for the Wench, he found her in the corner of the living room.

Laughing.

He angled toward the crystalline honk that he'd only ever managed to hear a few times. This laugh was different. This laugh was nothing like the guffaw she let out when he fell into the strident. It was different from the scuff she gave at his jokes; this was a full belly laugh that tinkled like bells.

Seated next to her on the couch, making her laugh like the eighteen year old she was, sat a face he had not see in years. Not too long after his sister’s wedding.

“Jaime!” The dark haired, blue eyed teen stood and made to hug him. Jaime side stepped the gesture.

“Renly, why in the hell are you here?”

Brienne finally spoke up. “He was invited. And he didn't have anyplace to go for the holiday.

Jaime glared at the girl with beautiful eyes, his gaze moved to the tall man who was the youngest brother of Cersei’s husband. “I'm sure the brother of our fair president has a standing invitation at the Red Keep for presidential type festivities. I'm sure he could have much more fun there than a little place like this.” 

Brienne glared daggers from her position at the boys side. “It's a good thing I chose a more intimate option. Our Brienne here is starting school at my university next week.”

Our Brienne? Jaime did not appreciate the possessive pronoun.

At all.

“You're at KLU, then? What happened to Stamford? Not enough debauchery for you? Or was their fashion not quite up to par?” Jaime moved to stand near the wench. 

Renly nodded and slid his hand around her waist. What in the hell was going in here? “Jaime, you remember Renly, don't you?’ It was Tyrion at his elbow; grinning like the proverbial cat with a canary. “Renly is a sophomore now.”

“Of course he is,” Jaime nodded. 

“He's offered to show me around KLU, make sure I have all of my classes sorted.” Brienne said to Tyrion, avoiding Jaime’s glare.

Tyrion smiled up at the girl; pleased with himself. Jaime wondered how much his little brother and his wife had to do with this chance meeting. The look in Brienne’s eyes every time Renly spoke made him want to drink. “Well, seems you got it all figured out, then.”

Tyrion turned his gaze in him, Jaime tried to ignore the knowing look in his brother's glare. Tyrion held out his hand for Renly to shake. “I'm grateful to you then, we were worried that Brienne would be going into college cold, it's great she will have a friend.”

“Yeah,” Jaime nodded. “Great.”

VvVvVv

He was beautiful.

Not in the completely unattainable way that Jaime Lannister was beautiful; in that fresco painted angelic golden and untouchable way. Captain Jaime Lannister belonged behind a barricade, only viewable but never felt. Brienne could not deny the way she felt about him, how his awkward surprise press of lips in the dark had sent her heart to heights she’d never dreamed of attaining. She’d found herself sinking into his unfathomable depths before cold reality hit like air to the lungs at the moment of drowning. 

She could touch Renly, and she had. He seemed to allow with every word, every smile and every returned touch. He had sat next to her at Winterfest dinner and kept her smiling with his jokes and mimics of famous people.

He'd told her about what professors to avoid, how to get the best classes and what not to eat in the commissary. Renly promised to introduce her to his friends and make sure she knew her way around campus.

For the first time in her life, Brienne had something to look forward to.

Jaime had remained sullen and quiet through dinner, only casting looks at her when Renly would dip to her ear to whisper some secret information about student life.

Renly had lingered long after dinner. They talked, shared stories and jokes in the screened in back porch. This far south, winter only held a gentle grasp on the world, she didn't feel the cold here like she had in Winterfell. The evening had bled into night and she hadn't realized it was midnight until Renly stood up to leave.

They'd talked every night in the house e since. Three days later he invited her out with him and some friends he'd thought she should meet.

Sansa had fussed over her like an elder sister. “It's your first date.” She’d pouted as she rummaged through Brienne’s closet.

“It's not a date.” Brienne insisted, plucking lint from the bedspread.

Sansa harrumphed but continued her plummet. She sighed through everything she looked at. “Why are all of your clothes horrible?” She asked

Brienne caved into herself, she had never been comfortable with criticism even from a friend. “ It's bit a d. ate.” She said again. 

“Of course it isn't. “ Sansa nodded again. “But he is amazing.”

Brienne had to agree. Renly was beautiful and smart and attainable. “ He is.”

“Of course it's a date.” Sansa huffed as she laid out an outfit. “Renly Baratheon is a dream.” Brienne could not argue with that; Renly was everything she could imagine; sweet, kind, helpful. His smile at her left her breathless. Renly never had a cutting word for her; he always dangled between a smile or a compliment for her. She must have gotten lost in her own imaginings, because when she looked at Sansa, the pregnant woman was considering her with a sad but wistful smile. “At least one of us should have a dream come true.”

Renly’s friends were already in the large car when he picked her up. Sansa had dressed her in a light blue skirt and a darker blue top. “You look beautiful,” Sansa had assured her, and Renly confirmed this as he walked her from the front door to the passenger side of his car. 

There were a brother and sister in the back seat. Renly introduced them as Loras and Margaery Tyrell. Both giggled when she frowned at their names, as if she was supposed to know who they were. “I’m sorry.” Brienne apologized, her body twisted to face the pair in back. “Have we met?”

They laughed again but this time Renly joined in. She hated the feeling of being left out of the joke; were they laughing at her? “Brienne is from the North.” Renly said finally as if that explained everything. He introduced Loras as his best friend, closer than brothers he nodded. Loras was sullen but nodded to Brienne 

Margaery placed a slender, elegant hand on her shoulder. ‘We know each other now, Brienne. I hope we can be true friends.”

Renly explained that they were both students at KLU as well; Margaery majored in art while Loras was a history major as well. 

The quartet ended up at a diner after driving around for what felt like hours. Margaery had wanted to go dancing, so they ended up taking turns dancing around in an open field. Brienne even took a turn with Margaery when Loras and Renly seemed to want a shot at each other on their makeshift dancefloor.

“Are you staying in the dorms, Brienne?” Margaery asked over french fries.

Brienne shook her head. “No, I’m staying with...family.” 

Margaery tilted her head to one side while she continued to chew. “Not parents?” she said. “Or, you would say that.”

Renly leaned into Margaery and spoke slowly. “Brienne has lived with the Starks for the past 7 years.” A quirk of realization seemed to dance across the brunettes face. “Ahhhh,” she nodded. “You know the Starks? I went to school with Sansa.”

Brienne nodded but shifted uncomfortably under the attention. Margaery grinned and politely changed the subject. “I only ask about the dorms because if you wanted to, you could room with me. In fact, I think I would like that.”

“You’re very kind.” Brienne began. 

“No, I mean it.” she reached across the table and squeezed Brienne’s hand. “You would love it. We even have a fridge!”

The night carried on until Brienne reminded Renly of the time. There was no curfew, but Brienne recalled what time Catelyn would request the boys to come home at night. At midnight, Renly parked in front of Sansa and Tyrion’s house and turned the car off. Margaery insisted on trading phone numbers, but Loras looked relieved when Brienne exited the car and he slid into her vacated seat.

He opened the door for her and led her back up the walkway to the front door. The small lamp in front of the front window was on; Brienne knew someone was waiting up for her, then. 

“Thanks for everything.” Brienne said, feeling stupid at her own words. In the movies, someone always said the right thing at the right time; but the gods had never blessed the tall girl with a way with words. She felt lucky that the words came out without mumbling or tripping over her own tongue.

Renly took her hands in his and pulled her close. “Me too,” he said pulling her closer. He hesitated before placing a kiss onto her full lips.

It was only her second kiss, but the first time she didn’t shove the other person away afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still traveling so I apologize for any mistakes, slow posting or weird formatting. Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, loved, hated, this fic. 
> 
> Hopefully another in a week.


	12. Everybody Loves My Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way too long to put out. Sorry. The next may not be until after JB Week, but I hope to have seven new fics out for that. 
> 
> Thanks to Mikki for her agile wielding of the cattle prod....she is really good with that thing!

She’d never had a group of friends before. The Starks didn't count; they were her family when she had none. Still missing the days of security with them around Brienne forged ahead into the world of college with a newfound strength that surprised even her. She attended classes and events always as a quartet. Renly, Loras and Margaery were her constants during the day, and she returned to Sansa’s at night. She had begun to feel a safety in her new life; a presence of a surety and consistency she had not felt since the halls of Winterfell rang with voices.

Renly held her hand as they walked across campus, he treated her as if she were precious. In that, she was. He never poked, nor prodded, nor called her ‘Wench.’ Brienne realized by midterm of her first semester that she would follow him anywhere. If she ever compared it was in their opposite natures. Jaime never said a word that didn't cut her to the core, while Renly only ever held sweet words to her. Renly and Loras were close, and she understood that Renly had a close friend, they even roomed together in an apartment off campus that she had visited more than once. 

His kisses were infrequent, but they were everything she had ever wanted. Brienne found herself writing nonsense in her notebooks and listening to love songs on the radio in her room. She talked to him nearly every night on the phone. He never got fresh; never tried to pressure her into anything. He was sweet and kind and his kisses were never stolen. 

She hesitated to use the word perfect, but that was how everything felt, Even the looks from her fellow students and classmates and soft snickers she would occasionally hear in her wake (but only when Renly wasn’t around), did nothing to mar the perfection she felt in her new life. FOr whatever Miss Catelyn’s reasons, Brienne felt that she had lead her to the right path. 

She’s not spoken to Catelyn since her graduation. Catelyn had called to wish her luck and apologize for her not being able to attend her ceremony; it had been the first time she’d talked to her in months. Brienne figured that, in her own way, Catelyn was pushing her out of the nest. And in many ways it had been the right thing to do. Brienne felt a serenity in life she had not felt even at Winterfell. 

She had friends, both Sansa and Margaery. The two had not met, Margaery seemed reluctant to visit her at Sansa’s Brienne wondered at Margaery’s 

VvVvVvV

He’d been dreaming of her again. Stupid stubborn wench that she was. It wasn’t enough that he had lost his only real friend, but now she had to invade his dreams at night and make her tall presence known. He didn't regret kissing her; that was the one thing he wouldn’t do. He regretted the timing, the setting, hell even the location. But the kiss? Never.

Once his dreams had been full of Cersei; her beauty and guile forcing him into her arms again and again in every dream he had. He would wake up rock hard from his dreams of his sister and call her to beg for a meeting, somewhere, anywhere..

He hadn’t dreamed of his sister since he’d taken Brienne fishing.

In his dreams now, she was still that confusing mix of innocence and allure. Sometimes they were camping again; The Reach, The Wall, hell, even Dorne a few times. Sometimes, that kiss replayed in his dreams, only it went so much further than that. And it was her eyes. Always her eyes.

He hadn’t seen her in weeks, not since Winterfest. Had not gone to his brother’s for fear of seeing her with Renly again. 

“Captain Lannister?” 

Jaime twisted in his chair at the sound of his clerk’s voice. It was nearly close of day and anytime Peck called for him in that officious manner, it was never a good sign,.”Private,” he said matching the boy’s cadence 

Peck saluted with a nod. Surely the Long Night had arrived again and with it the Night’s King. “Visitors, Ser.” Peck stepped back to allow them in.

It was only one visitor, and the one person he did not want to see. Jaime stood from behind his desk and placed his hand on his desk. His stump skid behind his back. “Father,” he said.

Tywin Lannister surveyed the drab office as if it was a pay toilet in a bus station in Yi Ti. He seemed loathe to sit, even with Jaime gesturing toward the canvas chair in front of his desk.

His father dropped into the proffered chair and folded his hands in his lap. Tywin had never come to the base; as if showing up in Jaime’s world would somehow acknowledge his older son's life as being separate from Lannister Holdings. 

Jaime called for Peck to bring coffee, Tywin continued to sit in silence, it made the younger nervous to see his father so quiet. 

“How old are you, Jaime?” His father asked finally. 

Startled by the suddenness if the question, but not the intention, Jaime found himself straightening in his seat. “Isn't that sine thug a parent shouldn't have to ask?”

Tywin visibly bristled “it was a rhetorical question, Jaime.”

“Of course Father. You came all this way to ask rhetorical questions about my age.”

Tywin’s face remained as unreadable as always. “You're far too old to be a rebellious teen, Jaime.” 

“We've established that.” Jaime fired.

“Both your brother and sister a married now. Butch are continuing the Lannister legacy. But, they are not my heir.”

“We have a lot in common then, I’m not your heir either.”

“It's time to give up this game if brave good hero. What has the military given you? A crippling disability?”

Jaime flexed his missing hand, he could even feel phantom fingers digging into flesh.”Is that what this is? Playing hero? Not doing a great job at it then, am I? “

Tywin glared at his son through eyes hardened. “It's Time for you to step up and be the man you were born to be.”

Jaime sat in silence at his father's words. It was an old conversation that had started when he ran off to the military during the Great War. “Tyrion seems to be filling those shoes quite nicely, Father. I'd hate to displace him.”

Tywin said nothing from his seat on the other side of Jaime’s desk. Jaime was used to his father’s uncomfortable silences by means of control, and yet it warred with his typical verbose nature. He shifted in his seat. “Father, I am a soldier, I am no businessmen. That’s Tyrion’s nature.”

“Tyrion knows his place, he knows well who sits at my right hand.”

“That’s not me, that will never be me.” Jaime asserted. The last thing he needed was to have this conversation with his father. He had no idea what drove him to show up here today, but Jaime knew this would not end well. He would never be able to give his father what he wanted. It had been a relief to see how his brother had taken to the role that Jaime had so easily vacated. 

Tywin folded his hands in his lap and sneered at his son. “You’ll change your mind, and soon. I fully expect you to come on board by the end of this year.”

“Really?” Jaime asked with a glint. “Is that so?”

Tywin fell silent again, that long stretch of uncomfortable quiet surveillance. “What about this girl? This Brienne Tarth?”

It was a name he did not need to hear; after she stopped talking to him he had to admit to himself that maybe his little brother had been right the whole time. “What about her?” he asked. 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Boy. What is the nature of your relationship with this girl?”

Jaime leaned back into his chair again. “You make it sound predatory, Father. But, i will answer your query . There is nothing between me and Miss Tarth. You will find, she is now entangled with Renly Baratheon.”

“That poof?” Tywin sneered. “IS that girl aware of his...proclivities?”

Jaime considered a beat before speaking. “That’s not for me to ascertain. She’s a woman grown, I am sure she will figure it out. Besides, she has made it quite clear that she has no interest in me.”

“Be that as it may, Jaime. You are well past the age that you should marry and produce heirs.”

Jaime’s laughter came fast and loudly. “Father, really. I am barely 30. Besides, there will be a new Lannister soon enough. Sansa and Tyrion are mere weeks away from parenthood.”

“That child will be the next generation of Lannister. But, he is not and will never be in line for succession.” Tywin slid further into the office chair. “Your sons are.”

“If i had sons, and i don't I would want them to do what they choose.” Jaime fired. 

“Spoken as a man who has no responsibilities.” Tywin accused. “When you have children, you will understand the importance of legacies. The importance of family and name.”

Jaime stood then. “As much as I love our conversations, Father. I have an important meeting to attend...son. Please feel free to show yourself out.”

Tywin did not move. “You can only hide from your duties for so long.”

“This,” Jaime spread his arms wide. “Is my duty. I am a soldier. I have men who rely upon me.”

“You have a duty to your family. You think all that gilded education was cheap? “ Tywin sneered. “Your place is at my side.”

Jaime shook his head and folded his arms. “Father, while I appreciate all you have done for me, I am not the right person for what you want. Maybe your attentions should be focused on the person that has shown that he is worthy of that moniker you wish to give me for nothing.”

Tywin glared at his still standing son. He stood then; adjusting his suit to its pristine status. Jaime smirked at how much his father was like Tyrion, or vice versa. The two were so alike it was more than likely what nagged at the older man so much. 

“Come to the house for dinner next week. I have some people I wish for you to meet.”

“Just like that.” Jaime said. 

Tywin glared again. “& on Friday. It's time you grew accustomed with where all of your privilege comes from.” Tywin moved toward the door to Jaime’s office. “It's easy to deny your responsibilities when you haven’t worked for them. Perhaps it's time you learned. Perhaps I have been too easy on you. It's time you learned what privileges you have had and how we all have had to make sacrifices.”

Jaime laughed bitterly. “I’ve earned my station here, my commission. I fought in the war.” he exclaimed.

Tywin nodded and left without another word and Jaime could not help but wonder what his father was planning.

VvVvVvV

The phone call had come to his office during a meeting with lawyers regarding contracts of acquisitions. Tyrion’s secretary had peeked his head into the office, dour faced and sweaty. “Sir,” Podrick Payne had interrupted the fourth hour of the travesty he had to endure. 

Tyrion considered the young man before speaking. He seemed nervous and blustery. “Yes, Pod.”

Pod made a wave toward his boss and Tyrion excused himself from the meeting. At the closed door and in the hallway he learned that his wife had been rushed to the hospital. Tyrion did not recall much of what followed; getting a car from downstairs and walking into the Lying In Hospital near the Red Keep. 

Now, sitting in the waiting room, his legs cramped from the run through the hospital, the odd looks from the other fathers sitting and smoking in the plastic chairs. He hadn’t been in to see Sansa, the nurses told him she was fine and progressing naturally, even though she was at least 8 weeks early. 

He’d called his brother two hours ago at his office on base. Jaime had assured him he would come as soon as possible. But, two hours later and Tyrion was still waiting.

He hated that feeling; it reminded him of when he was a kid and wanted his big brother to come and make everything better. Sansa was still in delivery and they would not let him in to see her. He knew Jaime had a way with people, and that pretty face of his could open doors where Tyrion couldn’t even reach the knob. 

The other men in the room seemed miserable, smoking and pacing or reading the newspaper. Tyrion envied them; they seemed able to consolidate their anxiousness into action.; Tyrion was never built for action. His short stubby legs were not made for action. Not the kind that burned off nervous energy. At one point, he even wished he smoked.

Tyrion looked at the clock again, three hours now. Where was Jaime?

VvVvVvVvV

He would never admit to knowing her school schedule. He would never admit to knowing what she did in her in between times, her cafe stops with Renly and the Tyrell’s, her class schedule were none of his business and he had no right to them. Yet, here, standing in the middle of the quad at KLU, in this moment, he was glad for knowing it. Tyrion had not asked him to pick the girl up, but he knew no one else would put her in the loop. Jaime knew she would want to know; would want to be there for her friend.

12:30, she should be in the commissary with her friends. Her new friends that had pushed him out of her life. Which, in retrospect was probably the best thing for Brienne. She needed friends, allies, people she could rely on. Jaime was actually happy she had people her own age and not infatuated older men who could do nothing for her other than offer sloppy, unwarranted stolen kisses in the woods.

He found her at a table in the back. Brienne and Renly were hunched over something and she was smiling. She always smiled with him. When he caught her eye, her scowl crawled over her face so much to make Renly turn around to see what had removed the smile from her blue eyes. “Brienne.” he said. “I came to get you.”

She scowled even deeper if that was humanly possible. “For what?” she asked blithely. Once they had been friends, before he had ruined everything. Once, his presence made her, if not smile, at least a small measure less scowly.

He squared his shoulders as Renly stood up to place himself between them. “Sit down, boy.” he told Renly and placed his flesh hand on the man’s shoulder. “This is family stuff.”

Brienne stood then, “What?” What’s happened?” 

Jaime hated that look of panic on her face, “Sansa, she is at the hospital now.”

Brienne began scooping papers and books into her leather bag. She fretted over Renly’s hands helping her to pack everything. “Is she alright? What’s happened?”

He took the bag from her hands once filled and angled her toward the door, his hand familiar at her elbow. “I don't know anything more than that. Tyrion called me a bit ago, I’m on my way there now.”

Renly came behind them, his hand on her arm. To Jaime, it now felt like some perverted tug of war. He let his hand drop from her elbow. “Brienne, I can take you there.” he said all youthfulness and curling raven locks.

Brienne seemed confused for a moment, “I’m already on my way there. It’ll be a wait I am sure.” He studied the younger man for the first time. Renly seemed to care for her in a way Jaime wasn’t prepared for. “Why don't you take notes for her afternoon classes?”

It seemed the out she needed. Brienne nodded “That would really help since we have that Algebra exam tomorrow.” 

Renly nodded, he glared at Jaime before kissing her, in the commissary, in full view of everyone enjoying the university food. In the presence of the man who had stolen a kiss from her months ago. Jaime understood. He was marking his territory. The Brienne he knew would hate that.

But, she was different now. They were different. 

“Call me when you get home?” he asked with a smile. Brienne nodded and squeezed his hand.

By the time they had made it to his car, they had not spoken a word to each other. Jaime wondered if they would ever get back to where they were before. “Sansa will be fine, I’m certain of it.” he tried by way of conversation.

“She was fine this morning when I left, how could she be in the hospital now?”

He knew where this was going. “You’re no doctor, Brienne. There was no way to know when it would happen. Babies come in their own time. My sister’s water for her second child broke in the middle of a Presidential speech.”

Her silence was making him crazy. “So you and Renly? How’s that going? You two rationed now?”

“Fine,” was her only terse reply.

Jaime gave a half smile, “He spends a lot of time with Loras.”

“They’re friends. You remember friendship, Jaime?” Brienne said.

He nodded. “I do, but apparently I am very bad at it.”

“The worst,” Brienne agreed. “Friends don’t do what you did.”

At the stop sign between Baelor Avenue and Baratheon Street, Jaime felt the anger rising. His first responses fell silent; even the secondary and tertiary biting responses about her fella’s proclivities rose and fell in his throat. “I miss you.” was all he said instead.

Brienne nodded but did not relax. He watched her flex her fist as if she wanted to say more, but not to him. Jaime sighed, “LIsten, Brienne--”

She raised a hand in defiance. “Now isn't the time, Jaime.” she insisted. “Whatever happened, its past. Right now it's about Sansa and the baby.”

Jaime nodded, though he wasn’t satisfied with scooping it under a rug either. “I just wanted to apologize for--”

Brienne visibly bristled and Jaime wisely shut his mouth. He needed to talk about it, but she wasn’t ready. “Just an apology. That’s it.”

Brienne nodded and they continued the hour drive through King’s Landing traffic. It was enough that she knew he was repentant. “I miss fishing.” he said finally. “I, I wanted to go again, sometime. Maybe I can try noodling again?”

Brienne shook her head. “I’d like that.” She offered. “Maybe at my semester break.”

He could accept that. 

VvVvVvVvV

Brienne nearly ran through the corridors, she had no doubt the sound that followed was Jaime nipping at her heels. He had been forthright enough to be the information gatherer, had charmed the receptionist downstairs to find out where the Lannisters were. The nurse had even called upstairs to delivery to make sure that they were let in. The elevator seemed to be the slowest she had ever ridden in. By the time they made it to the third floor she was ready to start hurling people out of her way.

A sweet faced nurse met them at the elevator and lead them through to a room off of the waiting area. Cigarette smoke clogged the air along with the tang of antiseptic and medicine. She threw open the door to Tyrion seated on a couch, his face a mass of irritation and something else.

“Tyrion?” Jaime said from her side. “What’s going on?”

Tyrion’s face seemed to crumple at his brother’s words. Jaime nearly knocked her over to get to the younger man. “I don’t understand?” Brienne shook her head.

Tyrion cried into his brother’s shoulders for what felt like minutes as she was rendered the stranger in the room. She wanted to know how things had gone, but the nurse in the room shook her head as she opened her mouth. The small woman lead her out of the room back into the corridor. 

“What is it?” Brienne asked. “Boy or girl?”

The nurse shook her head. “It was a boy.” she answered her in a whisper.

Brienne felt a white hot rage at the nurse’s hesitance. Why couldn’t she just speak like a normal person? Wait.

“Was?”

The nurse shook her head and dipped her hands into the pockets of her immaculate uniform. In her eyes were a look Brienne had known well, had seen it every day of her life. Pity.

“Stillbirth.” she said. “It happens sometimes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda felt like GRRM with this one, everytime someone posted about an update i kept thinking of the recent quote about making folks weep.
> 
> Sorry


	13. When the Saints Go Marching In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot happens in this chapter, it's a bit shorter than usual. Enjoy.

There was no way to misinterpret what had happened. In that small darkish room away from the joy and splendor of the life going on around them, Jaime sat with his brother in a room that reeked of death. 

Tyrion’s tears had subsided; he was too much Tywin’s son to allow himself too many indulgences that displayed weakness. But, his brother’s mismatched eyes remained shaded and bleary. They sat looking at each other, neither one knowing what to say. It was Jaime who finally broke the silence. “How is Sansa, is she alright?”

Tyrion wiped an errant tear from the corner of his dark eye. “Thank the gods, she hasn’t experienced anything physical other than the birth itself.”

Jaime glared toward his brother. “Then, why are you here? Why are you hiding from her? She needs you, should be in there with her. Sharing her pain.”

Tyrion huffed. “Her mother is in with her now.”

Jaime nodded. That was no place for his brother right now. There was no love lost between the two; couple that with the already stressful situation and it was a recipe for someone calling security. 

“We already had words, I thought it best to leave her to it. “

Jaime squeezed his brother’s hand, “Do they know…”

Tyrion shook his head. “It happens sometimes. Even in this modern era. I’m told the child was….deformed somehow.”

“Deformed?” Jaime asked. “How?”

Tyrion shrugged. “Maybe a dwarf like myself?” he said, though his voice came thick and gruff. “They threw words around like ‘autopsy,’ ‘blood work,’ and ‘study.’ I don't know.”

Jaime suddenly looked around, Brienne had not come into the room with him. She was somewhere in the hospital not aware of what happened. “Shit.” he said. Tyrion’s consideration required explanation. “I gotta go find- the Wench. I brought her here, and left her out in the hallway.”

Tyrion nodded. “I suppose I should go and see about my wife as well.” 

The brothers stood in the open doorway; each headed in differing directions. “Give Sansa my best? Tell her we are all hoping for the best.”

Tyrion nodded. “Find Brienne. It won't do to have yet another worry on our heads.”

 

 

...27...28….29

“Sansa,” the voice from the corner spoke, again.

….46….47….48…

“Sansa, I know it hurts. I know you are feeling broken right now.”

There were 11 rows of 12 tiles above her head in the private room. She recalled her multiplication table they had to memorize when she was in third grade.

“Sansa, you know you can talk to me. As a mother I…”

If she multiplied 11 by 12, she would find 121 tiles above her head. But it was so much more comforting to count each individual one. 

The voice at the side of her bed stilled from frustration and over use. She knew it was her mother who had shown up hours past...not long after they told her….

Where was she again? Well, it was time to start over.  
1….2...3…

The pain in her middle was nothing to compare to the physical pain she felt. Time seemed to come in flashes. At one point her husband…

Husband?

...had been seated in the very chair her mother now occupied. There had been words between the two, and Tyrion…

Yeah, Tyrion.

…..14….15….16…

“You can come home now. It's all over. You don't have to stay with that….man anymore.” 

….28...29...31…..

Shit, gotta start over.

“You have your life back now, Sansa. The slate is wiped clean.”

...1...2...3….

“Sansa, i know you can hear me. You have to understand what an opportunity this is for you now.”

“You can start over.”

Start over ...1...2...3...4…

A sigh came from the voice next to the bed. Her Mother. Mother. 

Start over 1...2….3...4…

VvVvVv

She’d wandered up and down that hallway unsure of where to go or what to do. SHe wanted to see her friend, to comfort and reassure. But she wasn't sure where to go. Brienne knew loss, had slept with it since she could recall. First, her mother, then the babes that never lived long enough to be called her sisters. Galladon had died when she was four; a drowning that she watched from the shore unable to do anything but cry while others tried to fish her big brother out of the blue ocean.

Loss was a constant companion; someone she knew perhaps better than her own self. 

She found her way out into the too bright sunlight; angry that it dared to be a beautiful day when everything else seemed so broken.

There were lines of taxis outside of the main doors of the hospital; vehicles that meant hope and happiness; people emerging from the hospital not in hearses or ashes. People that were happily returning to their typical lives with no stink of loss.

Those were not for her.

Her feet carried her faster than she imagined. She knew where she was going, even if her mind didn't her feet seemed well and good to travel the ten miles through back streets and twisted paths. 

She needed solace and the only place she could think of to find it.

VvVvVvV

Jaime wasn't sure where she had gone. He’s asked the nurses at Maternity if they had seen her.

They hadn’t, claiming instead to have been too busy to have noticed a six foot three blonde leaving their ward.

Jaime pulled through the streets around the hospital hoping to find her. She could have taken a taxi or she could have taken the bus that met at the corner of the building.

Wracking his brain, he decided she would have gone home. Where else would she have gone? He pulled into the driveway of Tyrion’s house, fished the emergency key from under the too merry welcome mat and let himself in. 

The house held the sadness that had been in that tiny room with Tyrion. Jaime called her name, but got no answer. His voice reverberated throughout the house and met him back in the foyer. The house was empty and felt like a tomb. He wandered through to the small room next to his brother’s The nursery had been set up for over a month. Some believed it to be bad luck to bring anything into the house for the baby before it was born. Maybe they had a point.

Jaime sighed and dragged an empty box in from the garage. Someone would have to tear it down before Sansa came home. He knew the pain would be too much for her to do and Tyrion was too much of a mess to consider it. 

Everything had been laid out with such great care that Jaime found himself equally carefully placing everything into the large box. Perhaps there was enough hope left in the spaces he filled with the items. Perhaps they would try again. There was always time. 

VvVvVvV

Tyrion stood outside the door to her room, he had already been in one disagreement with his good mother, what was one more?

“She doesn't want to be bothered. “ Catelyn intoned from the doorway. THe door to the room was shut behind her and she stood as sentury between Tyrion and his wife.

“Lady Stark, surely it's for her to tell me.” he tried with all the diplomacy j\he had learned dealing with the Greyjoys and their sketchy business practices.

Catelyn shook her head. “Leave her be, Tyrion.” Catelyn said. “She is going through a hell of a lot of grief right now.”

Tyrion nodded, “All the more reason for me to be by her side.” he said making for the door. Catelyn blocked him easily, her hands resting on his shoulders. “She would not be here in this torment if it had not been for you. Hasn’t she suffered enough?”

He wanted to tell her then, the truth of it all, the rancid and awkward realisation would do nothing to placate the fierce troll at the bridge, but it would make him feel better. Instead, he sighed and nodded. “Fine then, i will come back when she is better. “

Catelyn shook her head. “That could be a while.” 

“I’m nothing if not a patient man, Mrs. Stark.” 

VvVvVvV

The key to the apartment near the campus was unnecessary. The door was unlocked when she tried it. The whoosh of the fans in the living room gave some satiation to her overheated body. Renly’s place was always neat as a pin, but the clothes on the floor were a shock. There seemed to be two pairs of pants. Perhaps Renly and his roommate had been in a hurry to use the swimming pool on the roof?

She mindlessly picked up the clothes and moved toward the back of the apartment where she knew they kept their hamper.

It was the sounds that made her stop in her tracks just shy of the hamper in the shared bathroom. She traced the noises to Loras’s bedroom. Breathy and short, grunts and groans. As she listened at the nearly closed door, she assumed that they were cries of illness. But, though naive, Brienne knew the sounds of ecstasy. She smiled then, glad that her friend’s brother had finally found someone, even though it was probably completely inappropriate of such a nature for the relationship to be--

“Yes, right there, Ren. Ohhhhh.”

The clothes forgotten, a small yelp of surprise came from her mouth, half hung open and fretful. She knew not to disturb whatever was going on in that room and realized too late that it was two male voices. 

One of them was unmistakably that of her boyfriend's. 

She dropped the clothes as the sounds stopped, movement to the door of the room and Renly poked his head out. His hair disheveled, his body for want of clothing. His face held at first a visage of surprise, then fear, then something else entirely. 

Resignation.

His hand reached for her, then remembering his present state he held up a finger. “Wait, please. Brienne. Don't leave, okay?”

She stood dumbly,as she always had in the face of something she could not deal with. Her mind went treacherously to a kiss in the forest, and her cheeks turned into a flame. She felt the same way as she had that night outside of a shared tent. Mute and stupid and want of words. 

She mutely gathered the clothes on the floor and shoved them through the still ajar door. Turning on her heel, Brienne made her way to the living room and found a spot on the couch. 

She was going to face this one thing, she would not run.

VvVvVvV

Tyrion paid the cab driver not surprised to find his brother’s expensive car in the driveway; grateful but not surprised. The house sat quiet and seemingly empty. But, he found Jaime in the middle of what would have been the nursery, a screwdriver in his hand and a half disassembled crib around him. 

“Baby shoes for sale, never worn.” 

Jaime turned with surprise at his brother’s words. “Who knew that drunken idiot had a soul.” Jaime said and stood. Tyrion watched his brother stretch and smile. “I figured…” he trailed off waving at the carnage.

Tyrion nodded and returned his smile. “Not bad for a one handed man.” 

“I would have been done hours ago, but this…” he studied his hand and Tyrion was reminded of forcing his brother to eat when he was in the hospital. If anyone understood loss, it would be the man in front of him. “Thank you.” he said finally.

Jaime moved out of the room and Tyrion followed him to his office. Jaime slid his hand into the couch and fished out the hidden flask. He passed it to Tyrion first who took a longer than necessary drink. “Hell of a day.” he said after wiping his mouth.

Jaime took his own drink and nodded. “How’s Sansa?”

Tyrion sighed, “I wouldn't know. Either she doesn’t want to see me, or her mother doesn't want me to see her. I cannot figure which.”

“Catelyn Stark has circled the wagons.” Jaime said by way of acquiescence. “Has anyone told Father, yet?” He seemed to be putting quite the importance on….the baby.”

Tyrion huffed. “I haven't even had time to figure any of this out myself, Jaime. I suppose he already knows. You know how he is.”

“Still, Old Scratch should be called. I suppose I could do it?”

Tyrion finished the flask and jumped down from the leather couch. He made for his desk, then feinted toward the drawer. The bottle of whiskey was to be a celebration; whatever the circumstances he had been looking forward to being a father; to sharing this thing with the woman he had slowly come to love. Jaime stood as if to help and Tyrion waved him away. Popping the seal and taking a swig directly out of the bottle, Tyrion smacked his lips and took another swig. “I’ll call him.” he said finally, handing the bottle over to his brother. “But, I am going to need to be a bit more soused to have that particular conversation.”

“You certain that is such a good plan?” Jaime asked,.

Tyrion glared at his brother in disbelief. Sometimes he wondered how Jaime had had the courage to fob off the responsibility Casterly Holdings. He seemed still an adolescent wavering between fear of their father and a stringent need to rebel against him. 

Tyrion placed his hand on the receiver and removed it onto the desk. “When I am ready, I will make the call.” he retorted.

Jaime nodded and held the bottle out to his brother. “Your house, your rules.” he shrugged.

VvVvV

The sounds of merriment went on outside of her room. Sansa tried to pull together her thoughts, but the happiness around her seemed to engulf any rational thoughts she tried to hem together. But through the fugue, she felt empty. Alone. Even with her mother sitting beside her bed as she knew she had the whole time. She felt, bereft.

“Mom? Her throat felt dry and withered. “Why are you still here? Where’s Tyrion?”

Catelyn’s voice held a cadence of irritation as she answered her daughter. “He left.”

No, she thought through the haze of anguish. No, he wouldn't Of all people he would be the last person to leave her. Not now. “Left?” Or you asked him to leave.”

Catelyn pulled herself up to stand at her daughter’s bed. “He left of his own volition.”

“You’re lying to me. I know you are. I can see it in your face.” Sansa felt the strength coming back to her. She suddenly felt iron coursing through her veins. The ceiling tiles forgotten, she sat up and rounded on her mother. “No he didn't I know you, Mother. You have hated this since the first moment.”

“Of course I have. Not only is he far too old for you, but he is one of them.” she spat.

Sansa considered her mother. She knew Rickon and Bran were still ailing. The grief her mother must be carrying around on a daily basis kept her from truly exploding. She understood far better that grief now, had lived it far more than her mother had. Rickon and Bran were still alive, if not ailed. 

Sansa, on the other hand, had lost everything.

Nearly.

“That man has put you through the seven hells.” Catelyn accused.

“And what about your dear husband, Mother? What do you really know about Petyr Baelish?”

“I know my husband, Sansa. I married him didn't I?”

She studied her mother’s face, wondering what she had the strength to hear. Wondering how much to tell. “Littlefinger is the only monster I know.” she whispered. He is the one that sold me out to the Lannisters. He is the one that--”

Catelyn’s face clouded before her daughter’s eyes, morphed into a mockery of her usual face. “That what. Sansa?” she asked. 

“Ask your husband why Bran is in the hospital. Ask your husband why our family’s business went to hells. Then, ask him who paid all the bills.” Sansa turned her back to her mother then, suddenly tired of it all.

“What are you saying, Sansa?”

“I am saying that people who build glass houses in the sky should not also own stock in a quarry. Your husband has been obsessed with you for decades. You don't think he had something to do with Father’s companies tanking?”

“That was all Lannister!” Catelyn accused, her fists clenched. “How dare you make baseless accusations!”

She sighed then, finding her newly acquired strength ebbing. “Mother, I love you. You have been through hell. But, you haven’t been through what I have. Tyrion has. He is feeling this loss as much as I am. “

“Sansa--”

“Please leave.” she shook her head. “And don't come back until I call for you.”

Sansa waited until she heard her mother’s angry steps and the door close. She reached for the phone in her room and dialed home. The line was busy, but she wanted to leave now. She could not bear to be in that room and longer. The usual stay was four days, she had been there far longer than she had wanted to already.

It was time to go home.

VvVvV

Renly came into the living room dressed in clean clothes. He sat gingerly on the couch next to her and looked like a man off to his own execution. “I suppose you want some sort of explanation.” 

“Will you be telling me that you and Loras were praying?” she asked, surprised at her own words.

Renly looked at her then, “No, of course not. I won't insult your intelligence.” Then, as if forgetting his own assertion. “Do you know what was going on? What we were doing?”

She laughed then, a hollow sounding thing but a laugh nonetheless. “Renly, I am not stupid.” She stopped, “Or, I suppose I am. That I didn't see what was right before me the whole time.”

Renly moved to place his hand on her shoulder, but she angled away from his grasp. “I suppose you are disgusted.” he said. 

“No, to each his own, Renly. I have no right to judge anyone.” Brienne suddenly felt tired. Tired and lonely. She shivered at the thought that the only person she really wanted to see right now was Jaime. 

He nodded. “Nothing has to change between us.” he said. 

“Everything has changed.” Brienne stood, determined to find her friend. “Everything has changed and I can’t…”

Renly nodded in understanding. “It's difficult, you know. There is so much stigma about...us.”

She moved toward the front door. “No one will find out from me, Renly. I ..You all have been good to me.; We can still hang out and I will keep your secret, but I can’t...I”

“Do you need anything? A ride home? Make a phone call for someone to come and get you?”

“No, I walked here, I am sure I can get back. It's not too late.”

Renly studied her face then. “Why are you here, anyway, I thought…” He trailed off as if it was suddenly clear to him. “Something happened.”

She nodded, failing to keep the tears at bay. “I’ll call you later and tell you everything.” Shyness seemed to creep up through her skin. “Friends?” she asked as a blush crawled around her face.

“Always.” Renly nodded and placed his arms around her in a hug. “I know. I trust you.” He gave her a long hug before allowing her out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The quote by Tyrion is a six word story written by Hemingway on a cocktail napkin. Seemed to fit here.


	14. West End Blues

He wasn't there when she made it back to Tyrion and Sansa’s house. In fact, no one was there. The house was dark and empty. She sighed, the need to see Jaime burned around the edges of her too tired mind. Without preamble and short on food, Brienne made her way into the tidy kitchen and searched for something to eat. 

The door slammed halfway through the cold roast that had been languishing in the fridge for two days. Brienne edged around the doorway to make her way into the living room, but the voices of the two brothers were far from friendly. 

The last bite that had been circling her teeth, now a cold dead lump in her throat. She slid onto the floor of the kitchen and tried to hide in the small alcove near the phone. 

VvVvV

It wasn't a shocking revelation, really. The argument hadn't started as an argument at all. Tyrion had always prided himself on his intelligence, it was the one thing he had to offer, aside from his family name and the money that came with it.

But, since the two decided to go looking for Brienne and get something to put into their neglected stomachs, the idea kept buzzing around his head like a fly hell bent on ruining an otherwise shitty day. 

And what a day it had been. 

She thought about alerting them to her presence, but the conversation was amping up faster than she had realised. It would be embarrassing to all of them if they had any idea she was in the house. She wouldn't have any words to say to either of them anyway.

\----------

“Malformations” Tyrion was saying, she could hear the tale-tell slur in his words, he was drunk, with obvious reason. “What kind of malformations do you suppose a child could have?”

Jaime had said nothing, he sat on the couch with the remnants of the liquor sloshing in his good hand. 

“I just wonder,” Tyrion went on. “How much deformities the babe could have that they would mention studies and such.”

“Tyrion,” Jaime finally said. “I’m sure they will let you know.”

“Mother and Father were first cousins, but that wouldn't be enough to lead to the kind of deformities that could have happened.”

Jaime raised his head, unable to give voice to the elephant in the room. “I don't know what you are angling after,” he pulled the bottle to his lips and took another long drink. 

“You and Cersei, now there is a host of possibilities.”

Jaime leaned forward, his body pulled taut at the shared secrecy of their words. “But Joff, Myrcella and Tommen are fine. No deformities there.” he near whispered, as if the words themselves would cause the house of cards to fall all around him. “What are you getting at, little brother?”

Tyrion fell silent for a time, and Jaime could see his brother was trying to carefully craft his words around the haze of his drunken fugue. “Did you know,” he began, “that my wife attended the same high school as your son?”

Complete sobriety awashed over him. Jaime fixed his features into a steely gaze leveled at the smaller man across from him. “What are you saying, Tyrion?”

Tyrion reached for the bottle and took a long swig for himself. “I’m saying, big brother, that everyone lies to you, you just don't know it. Yet.”

Jaime stood and began to pace. “So, Sansa,”

Tyrion through himself back onto the couch. “I wonder at incest, the practicalities of it. What were you thinking when you lay with our Sweet Sister.”

“Watch your words, little man.” Jaime gritted. “You are treading on dangerous ground.”

“And you act without thinking.” Tyrion shouted back. “My wife and I have gone through hell because you and Cersei couldn't keep your hands off of each other.”

Jaime stopped pacing and looked at his brother again. Greif was a powerful truth serum. “Joff.” He said simply. “It was Joffrey who did this.”

“Ding, ding,ding!” tyrion said too loudly. “You have just won the 64,0000 dollar question!” He tugged at the bottle again and wiped his mouth. “You and our sister’s choices have left us all to suffer for them.”

“I didn’t know,” It was feeble, even in his own ears.

“What did you think would happen when those three started to have children of their own? What did you think would be the result, Jaime?” Tyrion tottered into a standing position, he wobbled on his feet. “Your son is the one who lost a child today, but I get to be the one with all the grief.”

“The deformities.” jaime said with a small voice. “I,” He stared at Tyrion then, and for the first time in his life, Jaime had no words to say.

“So quiet now, eh Jaime? So much bravado of making your own life, living by your own choices and rules. Not being hamstrung by any responsibilities. Well, guess what? Your choices have consequences, but you never have to pay for them, do you?”

Jaime’s silence seemed to fuel his brother’s ire. “I am the one who has to sit in on Father’s tantrums, I am the one that has taken on the burden of the family business. It's just me, Jaime. I feel the full brunt of everything you have turned away from. Do you know what it is like to have to suck it up and take father’s constant diatribes of how you should be the one taking over? How I have never been good enough?”

“Tyrion, I didn't know!” he insisted. Jaime had to admit to himself how much he had been grateful to Tyrion for stepping in, stepping up. Jaime knew how his father treated Tyrion, but it never crossed his mind, in all of his selfishness, that Tyrion was paying Jaime’s debts, and had never asked for anything in return. All those times Jaime had protected his brother when they were children, Jaime had never realized that the roles had since reversed. 

“And knowing would have changed, what exactly? The fact that you lost a grandson today instead of a nephew? The fact that you and Cersei mixing abhorrent life choices with irresponsibility lead to an innocent girl living through a nightmare? What choices would you have made differently, dear brother? Not putting your cock into our sister? Not running off to join the army and being a man for once?” 

“We were young, and stupid.” He insisted. 

“Sansa is young too, and maybe it was stupid of her to believe anything that came out of that little monster’s mouth. But, I find it sickening that she is the one paying the price. Not you, and definitely not Cersei. We all turned a blind eye to it as children. Father knew, but he was woe to do anything about it. If he had put a stop to it, if he had been some kind of father, then perhaps all of this could have been avoided. Tell me, big brother, was it all worth it? Was Cersei the great love of your life?”

Jaime ran his hand across his face, shame. It was what he felt for the first time about his relationship with Cersei. He had never felt shame about it, not about this. He had always been so sure that he was justified in his love of his sister. They were meant to be together. Jaime thought of that first time when they were 12, huddled together on his childhood bed. She had come to his room in the middle of the night and he had held her. They had always shared kisses and even some small fumbling, but that night, they both wanted it, wanted each other. 

Tyrion broke through his reverie. “Was she there in the hospital for you? Did she marry someone else? Did she ever once admit her love to you in the open as you have considered doing?”

Had she been the love of his life? “No,” he admitted as an image off guileless blue eyes flashed through his mind. “No.”

“No,” Tyrion shook his head and finished off the remainder of the bottle. “No, and I have been the one picking you up after each and every time she hurt you. I have been the one cleaning up this mess for far too long. It's over, I am ending it.”

Jaime came to kneel in front of his brother. “Tyrion, if for one second I could go back and change any of this, I would.”

“Would you?” Were you ever able to look from the outside in, Jaime? Cersei has hated me since I was born, but you always seemed to choose her happiness over anyone else’s I never doubted that you loved me, Jaime. But seeing you two together made me wonder if it was she or me in need of saving, who would you have chosen?”

Jaime shook his head, an answer he could not give him, could possibly never give. Even as his lover, Cersei was still his sister. He had to often choose sides between the two of them. This, right now, felt like Tyrion was asking for a final line in the sand. “Tyrion, don't make me chose, don't put me in that position. I don't even talk to her anymore.”

“And if she had wanted you back? If you had never lost your hand, would you two still be continuing on?”

Jaime could not answer that, he averted his eyes from his brother. “Get out.” Tyrion said quietly. “Don’t come back.”

Jaime rose and sighed. He grabbed for his keys and nodded. “I love you, Tyrion. And, I am sorry.” He left with a slight snick of the front door.

\-------------

“How much did you hear?” he asked the lumbering form as it made it's silent trek to the stairs. 

She turned her red rimmed eyes on him and shrugged. “All of it. I heard it all.”

Tyrion had managed to pull another hidden flask from the couch cushions in the living room. The long slow buzzing in his head was exactly what he needed. He didn't want to come out of it for years. He tipped the flask toward the girl, who nodded and remained still as if afraid to scare him with any movement. “I’m sorry.” she said simply.

Tyrion waved away her sympathies. “Sorry doesn't change anything, Brienne. And despite what well meaning people tell you it's the last thing you want to hear.”

“I know,” she said quietly. It struck Tyrion that she would know; she would be as accustomed to loss as anyone he would meet. “Come and sit with me.” He patted the couch cushion next to him and smiled as the girl slid into Jaime’s vacated spot. 

“Family is a real cunt, Brienne.” She flinched at his harsh words, and Tyrion was uncertain if it was the language, or the fact that she had no family to compare that statement by. “My brother and sister have been fucking each other since before they even knew what fucking was.”

“He took advantage of her.” Brienne accused.

Tyrion threw his head back and laughed, so hard Brienne jumped. “No, n,” He said, still tittering. Tyrion took another pull from his flask. “Whatever I feel about my big brother right now, if you had ever met Cersei, you would know who was taking advantage of whom. “ 

“I find that hard to believe.” She asserted “

“Sometimes I forget The Feminine Mystique is lost on you, dear Brienne. But, someday you may learn how the world truly works.”

“I learned enough of that tonight.” she muttered.

“I’m sure you did, but something tells me you are not referring to the family tete au tete you eavesdropped upon.”

“I wasn't eavesdropping.” She insisted with a square of her shoulders. “But, yes, I did find out about Renly. Something I think everyone but me knew about.”

Tyrion patted her shoulder and rubbed the mirth out of his eyes. “Well, this too shall pass.” Lights in the driveway made him turn toward the window in the living room. He soured at the thought of Jaime coming back. He never wanted to see his brother again, no matter how much he loved the flawed man. 

“I’ll do it.” Brienne assured him. Tyrion was grateful for her then, certain he wasn't going to make it to the door on his own volition. 

The door opened before Brienne made it to the foyer. Sansa brushed past her and headed straight for the living room. “Tyrion,” she breathed, allowing the restrained tears to flow from her eyes. Tyrion held her as she collapsed into him, their tears fell, intermixed and came together as one silent pool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, just needed a swift kick in the ass (thanks Mikki) 
> 
> I will be going back through and editing the crap out of this story, but I wanted to post this chapter that I fired off.
> 
> We are a little more than halfway through,


End file.
